Tabula Rasa
by CIFan812
Summary: I didn't tell my wife about my thoughts on her father, but Mary had no illusions about the kind of man he had been. *Chapter 19 is up!* Violence, mentions of rape & language, character death. No Wincest. Lost 'Verse.
1. Missing Something Vital

**Missing Something Vital**

"Part of the fun was going to be him _knowing where the boy was_! How could you be so stupid?"

The crossroad's demon shrunk away from me. "There are rules I must follow, Azazel. Not even the hope of raising the master allows me to break them." I hissed at her. Hissed! I swear to Beelzebub, these wet behind the ears demons are going to turn me feral. Although it was worth my decent into near barbarism to see her flinch like that. Crossroads demons didn't usually answer to other demons, but I was an exception to the rule – just like so many others. "But I did do something that will please you, something that should make up for it."

"What could possibly make up for John Winchester's agony at knowing his son is rotting in Hell? Or, more importantly, for poor little Sammy feeling all lost and helpless over big brother's sacrifice?"

"I made them forget about Sam's possession."

I rolled my eyes. Once a crossroads demon was asked to tamper with memories, they could do it in any way they pleased unless the deal required specific parameters. 'Make them forget me' gave her a whole hell of a lot of latitude. But this alteration just seemed to be working against me rather than for me. At this rate, I was _never_ going to get Sammy desperately panting after Ruby. "And this makes up for everything _how_?"

"The child."

I drew in a breath between clinched teeth. "Oh… _oh_… that's… that's just _beautiful_." I smiled widely. We'd just have to make the Winchesters suffer in other ways. But she was right. This really did make up for it all. Every single bit of it and then some. "I guess I won't be destroying you after all. Now if you'll excuse me, I got a door to Hell to open."

* * *

I found Dad at a crossroads, cradling a body. It was a strange scene and something about it twisted in my gut, made me feel like I was missing something. "What the hell happened to him?"

"He died. Just collapsed and… I have no idea what was wrong with him."

"This is a crossroads, right? Maybe he made a deal."

"That's not how it works. You get ten years and then the hounds come for you. He hasn't been mauled. No open wounds. Lots of scars but no wounds."

"Do you know who he is?"

"No idea. I was driving by, saw him here. Don't know why I stopped. Next thing I know, I'm wakin' up and he's on his knees strugglin' for breath. I swear he was tryin' to tell me somethin'. Whatever knocked me out was long gone."

"Sun's comin' up. We need to get to Bobby's, Dad." But I wasn't moving either. I couldn't' take my eyes off the stranger. I felt like I should know him, but I just couldn't work out how or from where.

Dad finally looked at me for the first time, eyes narrowed. "_We_? I thought I told you to stay put, boy!"

I bit back a sigh. My father had ordered me to lay low, keep Hendrickson out of trouble, while he went to Bobby's and tried to get some hunters together to go stop Azazel from opening the Hell's Gate. "Victor's in the car. We decided that we wanted to help."

"Do I need to remind you that you were just operated on less than a month ago? That you just damn near died back at Cold Oak. Hell, you shouldn't even be able to _stand _after what happened."

"Do we have to have this argument while you're holding a dead body? Can't we just, I don't know, bury the poor son of a bitch?"

Dad sighed. "Get Hendrickson. Kid's heavier then he looks, and we need to find some wood."

Normally Dad and I would both be eager to be on our way. After all, the Hell's Gate was about to be opened. But there was something about this guy that Dad found. I just couldn't shake the feeling that it was important. That _he_ was important. That we were missing something vital here.

Dad seemed to feel the same way, took his time reciting last rites and giving the guy a decent salt and burn. Even eulogized the guy. It was quick and dirty, and I was pretty sure it wouldn't have gotten the Father Jim seal of approval. But still. We found guns, knives, holy water and various other things on his body that lead us to assume that he was a hunter. Dad took his wallet, said he'd talk to Bobby and Ellen to see if he had next of kin or friends that would find some comfort in knowing that he'd been seen to properly. I could understand that. My biggest fear had always been that Dad would go off on a hunt and just never come back. I can imagine the most people close to a hunter felt the same. Dad found a jug in the cab of his truck to put the hunter's ashes in and buried them under an oak tree with a marker. Then we were finally on our way. But I couldn't stop thinking about that poor guy. To die on a deserted dirt road with no one but some random stranger there with you just seemed like such a fucked up way to go. Still it was better than most hunters got. Dead in a ditch somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

"Poor bastard," Hendrickson said as we headed back to the car, all us feeling somber and introspective. "Normally I'd take the guy's prints and run them to see who he was. But that was, you know, _yesterday_ when I was still a federal agent. As opposed to today when I'm wanted for obstruction of justice, murder and grand theft auto." He shrugged. "Destruction of a corpse, destroying evidence and impeding a federal investigation. Assaulting federal agents."

Dad snorted. "That all?"

"I'm pretty sure there's more, but that's just off the top of my head. What? That's not enough?"

I rolled my eyes. "Poor baby."

Hendrickson was quiet for a few moments, long enough for me to regret mocking him. The guy's whole life just got turned upside down he didn't need me being a jackass to him. "So how are we supposed to keep this door closed?"

"Hell's Gate," Dad asked. "_We_ don't. You and Sam are going to stay at Bobby's while real _uninjured_ hunters keep the Gate closed."

I huffed out a breath. "Dad, I really don't think this is the time to get all over protective. I survived Cold Oak."

"Barely, Sammy. And only because the son of a bitch thought he'd killed you. Tell me you're not hurting."

Why did Dad have to call me Sammy in front of people? It was bad enough that he did it in private, but I was twenty six, six foot four and nearly two hundred pounds, and he insisted on calling me 'Sammy' in front of anybody that happened to be around. I banged my head against the headrest. "And you were shot less than twenty four hours ago."

"It was a _flesh_ wound. There's not much chance that I could bleed out if it reopens. I still think I need to drop you off at the damn hospital after the way that bastard threw you. I don't know how you survived that. I really don't." Dad's voice went rough and strange and he cleared his throat. He'd been frantic when I came too to see him looming over me. Poor guy must have been terrified. Not that he'd ever admit it. The great John Winchester was never terrified.

"Yeah, cause it's not like I'm wanted or anything."

"That's the only reason your ass isn't cooling in a hospital bed right now. I get so much as a sign, though, that anything's opened up in that gut of yours and I'm takin' you anyway. Just have to figure out how to bust you loose later. At least you'll still be alive."

"Look, Dad, we're hunters. This is what we do. We suck it up and finish the job."

* * *

Bobby was able to scrape together a handful of hunters to meet in Stull Cemetery at night fall, but I had no luck getting Dad to budge on letting me go. Hendrickson got to go though.

"Sammy, don't make me tie you down." My father's voice was reasonable, almost dismissive. But he meant it and it wasn't like I could do a whole hell of a lot about it in the shape I was in. Which was an very big indication that he was right. "Help me get the weapons ready, son."

"Yeah, fine," I gripped as I began pulling them out of the weapon's duffle.

"Sammy, you're all I got kid. If anything happened to you."

"Yeah. I know. But you're… you're all I got too, Dad."

"Between the two of us, I'm the least banged to shit. The old man's still got a little fight left in him. I'll be fine."

"I know you will." I smirked as I took apart one of the guns almost without having to think about it. "Too damn stubborn not to be."

* * *

Dad had been gone for hours. It was nearing midnight, and I was getting anxious. The worst shit always happened at the witching hour. Mom's death, Jess' death. So I went out to the front porch and paced. Rummy tried to keep up with me at first, but now he just sat and watched me like I was the damn ball in a tennis match.

"It's the story of my life, Rummy. 'M always the one wounded, or kidnapped and needing to be rescued. Even when Jess died, Dad had to pull me out of the apartment or I would have died too. Now Dad's off trying to stop Azazel from opening a Hell's Gate. Salt doesn't work on the son of a bitch. 'Traps don't work. What the hell's Dad gonna do? Order him to stop?" I snorted. Wouldn't put it past Dad to try.

A sudden cold chill ran up my spine and I looked up to see a black cloud twisting and wreathing in the sky, partially blocking out the moon. It was moving, coming this way at an impossible speed. That so could not be good. Rummy stiffened and began growling at it.

"No, boy. In the house!" I pulled him in through the front door and thankfully he let me even though he was still growling and snapping. I slammed the door shut behind us and watched the black cloud through the window. It came right for the house. Right for me. When it hit, it felt like a hurricane force wind, rattling the house to its foundations. I could almost make out voices. My heart pounded in my chest. "They can't get in," I told myself as I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over.

It finally stopped after what felt like hours but was probably just a few seconds. I was in the corner, shaking and drenched with sweat. Rummy was in planted in front of me, like he could do anything with demonic smoke if it could have gotten in. The air reeked of sulfur. My hands were shaking when I dialed my father. It went straight to voice mail. "Damn it Dad, call me!"

Those demons… Dad hadn't been able to stop the Gate from opening. But was he still alive? We could deal with the demons as long as there was still a 'we', as long as Azazel hadn't taken him from me too. I let out a strangled sob, grief so fresh I wasn't sure where it was coming from making it hard to breath. I hadn't cried for Jess in a long time and I didn't even remember crying for Mom although Dad said that I had, for months. I had no reason to believe that my father wasn't going to walk through that door. Banged up but alive. No reason at all. So why did I feel _loss_ crushing me until I could barely breath? Barely _think_?

Rummy whined and put his head on my lap, looking up at me with big sad eyes.

"It's okay, Rummy. It's okay. Nobody's dead yet."

It was a few hours before Dad and Bobby returned, Hendrickson in tow. He was still alive and I was starting to be impressed.

"What the fuck happened in here? And why's it smell like sulfur?" Bobby's voice was gruff as he took in the fallen books and moved furniture. I'd cleaned up some of it, but I hadn't been able to make my mind stop wondering long enough to finish it all.

"Big demonic cloud attacked the house." I was proud of myself for not sounding as freaked out about it as I felt. "Couldn't get in, so it just… left."

"Probably to go find some bodies. We're gonna have some trouble."

Dad snorted as he screwed the cap off a bottle of whiskey with his teeth and spit it on the table as he collapsed into a chair, his right hand cradled to his chest. "When the hell don't we have trouble?"

Bobby snorted and shuffled into the other room. Looked like he'd be limping if he could figure out which leg hurt worse. Hendrickson followed him, wiping blood from his eye. He had a nasty looking gash on his forehead. I told him I'd look at it once I took care of Dad.

"Not a problem," he said with a smirk. "Bobby got banged up worse. I'll go see how he's holding up."

Dad had cracked ribs, broken fingers and too many bruises and scrapes to count. But he was alive. That loosened the knot in my chest a little, but it didn't go away. My hands shook as I cleaned his wounds. He put a hand over mine in an uncharacteristic show of affection. "It's alright, son. The Gate's closed again and we've got the key. We'll deal with what got out."

In the other room, Bobby was cursing, and Hendrickson was telling him in a low, calm voice to suck it up. It reminded me of something but I couldn't put my finger on it. I sniffed and let out a long breath. "It was Lilith," I said finally.

"Lilith?"

I sighed. I hadn't told him about the dream. Everything had happened so quickly and, to be honest, I was afraid. I'd hoped that if we could keep the Gate closed, there'd be no point. "Azazel is trying to raise a demon named Lilith. He says she was the first and is the only one who can raise Lucifer."

"Jesus!" Dad's head dropped and he took a deep breath before raising it to look at me. "We'll deal with it."

He passed me the bottle and I took a long pull, feeling it burn its way down. I'd never been much of a drinker, but a little helped with whatever the hell I was feeling right now and made my hands steadier. I nodded my appreciation as I handed the bottle back to him and got back to work on his injuries.

* * *

It was nearly a month later when the Seven Deadly Sins showed up and I wasn't healed nearly enough for this. Thankfully, Victor stuck around. Turned out that he was presumed dead after the massacre. None of us was particularly sure of how that spectacular fuck up happened, but we didn't care to look a gift horse in the mouth either. Not with the way we suddenly had our hands full dealing with escaped demons and trying to find Lilith. Victor felt bad about his family grieving him, but he felt they were better off not knowing. He understood the value of innocence right along with the danger. It felt right, though, somehow. Hunting as a three man team. Although I got stuck with most of the research while Dad and Victor hit the bars. Even that, though, seemed right.

The entire town had been basically destroyed by the time we got our heads out of our asses to deal with the Seven. I had somehow gotten separated from the other two, cornered by two demons. Out of nowhere, this blond shows up and starts fighting them off. Stabs one with a knife and something weird happened. There was a flash through the hosts face and the smell of sulfur and ozone. It dropped, motionless. No black smoke. Nothing. The woman was too strong, too fast to be human as she fought with the other demon. The demon looked afraid of the knife but ended up laying on the floor half on top of the first. The woman turned to me, her eyes black for an instant before becoming blue again.

"Sam Winchester?"

I freaked out, pushed her against the wall. "What the hell do you want?"

"I'm Ruby. I'm here to help you," her voice trembled as she held her arms out in a gesture of surrender, the knife loosely gripped between her thumb and forefinger. I knew that she was letting me pin her to the wall, my forearm on her windpipe. That much was obvious and I couldn't make any sense of it. Demons were so much stronger than we were that she should be able to just push me away. Pin me to a wall without even touching me.

"Help me? You're a _demon_. Demons don't help people."

"You're not just people, Sam. You're the only thing that can stop Lilith."

"From raising the Devil?"

"The Devil?" She looked at me like I'd lost my mind, the way normal people look at me if I even hint at what's really lurking in the dark. "Look, I don't know anything about that. I just know that I escaped her. I clawed my way out of Hell looking for you."

"For _me_?" Okay. This was making less and less sense.

"There were rumors about someone who had enough juice to stop her. Enough to stop them all. They're coming for you, so I came to find you first."

I laughed. Me? Powerful? I couldn't even get my father to stop embarrassing me in public. "I think you got the wrong guy."

"No… it's you. Azazel never wanted you to know how powerful you are. I can help you. Teach you how to control your powers, use them against Azazel and Lilith."

I blinked at her, remembering what Ava had said in Cold Oak about her powers growing. "You still haven't answered my question. Why would you help me?"

"I'm helping myself, short fry. You kill them, I'm free."

"Yeah. Free to torture, to maim, to kill."

"I don't want any of that. I just… I just don't wanna go back there. Hell is…" she let out a chocked little laugh. "Hell sucks. I'll do anything not to go back there. Even behave myself. You could make me behave. I mean, if you can kill the First, imagine what you could do to me."

I stared at her for a moment. Was that even possible? Could demons just… _reform_? We'd found vampires that weren't evil, despite Dad's insistence that it was impossible. Even then he'd pointed out that they were just behaving out of self-interest rather than empathy the way humans would. I heard the noise of my Dad entering and I cast a panicked glance at the door. If he knew about this, he'd just exorcise her out of hand. He wouldn't try to figure out if she was telling the truth. I turned back to tell her she needed to make herself scarce to find her gone. Just like that.

* * *

_A/N: Woohoo! First chapter of the sequel is finally up! Okay, tell me what you think. Oh, and thanks for not showing up with torches and pitchforks!_

_And for those who were kind enough to review the last chapter of Lost:_

_Thanks __**Haylia Jones**__! It gets twistier. LOL._

_Hope this was satisfying, at least as much as it can be since Dean's not back yet, __**Danaa**__. And thanks for the inspiration with the title. ; )_

_**Babyreaper**__, dude! Don't give up on me now… there's still so much story to tell._

_Thanks for sticking with me __**kelmar2004**__! I hope you enjoy this story too._

_Yeah, __**NongPradu**__, it is horrible. But it just felt right from Dean's prospective. _

_You summed up how Dean was feeling perfectly, __**rog457**__. And thanks for putting that pitchfork away. Seems like a painful way to die._

_.__**Dakotta**__., I understand you perfectly. Your English is really good. I don't like torturing Dean, actually. I was in tears by the time I finished writing a lot of Lost's chapters, especially the last one. It was Azazel's fault. I swear. I always try to inject a little humor into the horror and grief. That's the Supernatural way. And really, it would just be a big maudlin mess without it._

_That was my evil plan all along __**hpsupernaturalfan**__. Even though it felt organic to me, I knew no one would guess that ending. And yeah, that makes sense. Dean's always been the one thing that bridged John and Sam. They love each other dearly, but their too much alike and getting along without the buffer of Dean is going to be a chore._

_Hey __**medallionable**__! Glad you enjoyed that last chapter. Hope this hits the spot._

_Here you go __**Yammy1983**__!_

_Hey __**Eeyore08**__. I hope this first chapter lived up to your expectations._

_Thank you **Pretender68**. It took a while, but it was rewarding. I'm so glad you enjoyed it and hope you enjoy the sequel too._

_Hey __**Kminxus**__… deleted your address in the review, so I apologize that you never got the email you requested. I did find your LJ id (or I think I did anyway) and send you a message, but I'm not sure if you ever got it. Hopefully you find this without too much trouble._

_No torches and pitchforks, __**redgriffin7**__. I'm very thankful for that. LOL. I'm glad you enjoyed lost and I hope that Tabula Rasa lives up to your expectations. And of course there'll be Cas. How could there not be Cas?_

_Thank you so much __**greendaypumpkin**__. I tried really hard to show exactly what Dean was dealing with without either prettying it up or making it gratuitous in any way. Some of it was brutal but I hope none of it was unnecessary. Hope you like this one._

_-Angie_


	2. Not the Same Kid

**Not the Same Kid**

I stood in back of the roadhouse staring at Jo. I felt… I'm not sure what I felt. Blindsided? Sucker-punched? I knew I needed to say something, but I couldn't get my mind to form any coherent thoughts. "You're pregnant," I finally squeaked out. And that was fucking useful.

"Yeah."

"And I'm… you think it's mine?"

"Sam! I know who the father of my baby is. I mean, I know what we did was… unexpected."

"Unexpected?" That was a polite way to put it. We'd both been angry with our parents. And we'd both developed the admittedly childish habit of stomping off in a huff. We'd run into each other about three months ago and somehow a drunken bitching session had ended up in some really hot sex. We hadn't seen each other since. "Are you sure? It only happened once."

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at me. "That's all it takes, genious."

"It's not that I doubt you or anything. It's just… we were careful, right? I mean, yeah, we were drunk, but I clearly remember using a condom. This is just…"

"Unexpected?"

I barked out a laugh. "Yeah. Look, I'm gonna be around for this, okay? 'M not gonna just leave you to do this alone."

"Really?" She looked hopeful, like she'd half expected me to run for the hills and never look back.

I shrugged. "You didn't get pregnant on your own. This is my kid too."

She looked at the ground. "Good. Cause I'm a little scared."

"Scared? You want scared? I've gotta tell my Dad."

"Oh yeah?" She looked back up at me with a smirk. "We'll I've gotta tell my Mom."

"Oh. Right." Shit. Like most older women, Ellen liked me. But I wasn't sure how she was going to take the news that I'd impregnated her daughter.

* * *

I sat staring at my beer waiting for my father's reaction. It'd taken me a whole week to work up the nerve to tell him.

"You're gonna step up, right," he asked. Only it wasn't a question. I felt my posture go straighter, my shoulders square a little more.

"Yes, sir. Provided Ellen doesn't shot me."

He snorted. "Of all the girls in the world to knock up, you just had to pick Ellen Harville's only daughter. Sure know how to pick 'em."

"Not like I did it on purpose." I sighed. "'M not ready for this, Dad."

"Nobody ever is, son. Nobody ever is." Dad's voice sounded heavy, part sadness and partly something else. Something that I caught a glimpse of every once in a while whenever I was hurt or after a particularly bad fight. I swollowed hard, wondered if I'd have this much baggage with my own kid.

* * *

"Sammy what's wrong?"

"I don't… I don't know what it is. But there's something that's just… not right. I was visiting Jo. She was all amped up on hormones or somethin' and she just _jumped_ me."

Dad chuckled. "Hate to break it to you kid, but that's not exactly abnormal."

I blinked at him. "I really don't want any anecdotes. Please. I still choose to believe I was delivered by a stork."

Dad shrugged, still looking amused. "Just sayin'."

"Anyway, that wasn't the really weird part. In the middle… of… of everything, she just freaked. Started screaming and punching me. Ended up huddling in a corner like a caged animal. You should have seen her, Dad. The look in her eyes. She was terrified of me."

Dad sat back and stared at me, saying nothing. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. "I got some calls to make. I'll be back."

Normally I would have demanded that he tell me what was going on, and that would have lead to an argument and long tense silence. And I still wouldn't be able to get the answers I wanted. So I just nodded instead, accepting that he wasn't going to turn into Mr. Transparency just because that's what I wanted. Mainly because I was just too damn rattled and tired to deal with it. And partly because I needed to met Ruby and the hypocrisy of keeping my secret while expecting my father to have none was starting to get to me.

* * *

"Adam," I asked, testing the name on my tongue.

"Adam," Dad confirmed, still not looking at me. Like he was confessing a dirty secret. I guess he was.

"So why are you telling me about this now?"

"I don't know. I feel like… something's missing."

"And that something is your grown ass pre med son?"

Dad flinched at the tone of my voice before narrowing his eyes at me. "Do you need me to prove that I can still take you over my knee, Sam?" His voice was quiet, reasonable. I knew my father well enough to know how deceptive that was. Not that I was ever afraid of him. He'd never hurt me and now that I could pin him to a wall if I really wanted to? I wondered what he'd do if he knew what I could do. Would he try to kill me? A shiver ran up my spine at the thought. Dad could never find out about Ruby and the training. And especially not about the blood. That would not end well.

I snorted. "It's just… after the whole Stanford thing, you can understand why I find it a little upsetting to learn that I have a little brother who got the whole mom and apple pie normal life."

"He wasn't being hunted by a demon, Sam. I didn't even know about him until after you'd _left_ for Stanford and he actually had a mother who was his only legal parent. I wasn't even on the damn birth certificate, Sam. I was just some guy who showed up one day when he was thirteen. I thought about just taking him once… one night when I woke up in a cold sweat worried about all the things that could happen to him, but I couldn't… I couldn't protect _you_ if I was in federal prison for kidnapping."

"So you're saying that this is really proof that you love me more?"

Dad ran his fingers through his hair. "It sounds really fucked up when you put it like that."

I wanted to tell him that it was really fucked up anyway, but I restrained myself. Who says that I have no self control? "I want to meet him."

"Meet him? Yeah. I suppose you would."

I laughed at the look on my father's face. "He doesn't know about me either, does he?"

Dad looked away. "That would have just brought up a lot of questions that I didn't want to answer."

"Well, he's an adult now. Adam can make his own decisions. And… I don't think he needs to be left unprotected. I know now, and if Azazel or Lilith find out…"

"They'll use Adam against us and the kid will be a sitting duck. Yeah. I thought of that to. Okay. Let's go see your brother."

Hearing my father say that felt right and wrong all at the same time. Because something _was_ missing. I just couldn't figure out what that something was. Only that it was something big, something _important_. Maybe it was Adam, but I couldn't help thinking that it wasn't. That it was close, but still no cigar.

* * *

It was a little freaky how much Adam looked like a younger, gawkier version of Dad. We sat in his dorm room, an uncomfortable silence hanging over us until he finally cleared his throat.

"So… Sam. This has gotta be kind of awkward for you."

"Oh, I think it's awkward for everyone." Another few moments of uncomfortable silence. "You know, I always wanted a brother."

He smiled. "Yeah. Me too. Growing up an only kid kinda sucks."

I laughed at that. Didn't I know it? "Yeah. It kinda does."

Dad cleared his throat and cut in. "I know you gotta be wonderin' why I never told you about Sam."

Adam shrugged and looked away. "The question did cross my mind. You weren't… you weren't _married_ were you?" He cast a nervous glance at the ring on my father's hand.

"A long time ago… I told you a truth about that. Sam was only six months old when Mary died. So, it wasn't something like that. It was… Adam, do you believe in the supernatural?" Was Dad _blushing_?

Twenty minutes later, Adam was sitting very still and quiet and staring at nothing in particular. He drew a deep breath and nodded. "Okay."

Dad went a little wide eyed and blinked at him. "Okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, that's a pretty lame lie to make up just to explain why you didn't tell me I had a brother. I mean, I suppose you could both be crazy, but…" he shrugged, "I think I would have noticed that by now, Dad. It explains all the scars, and the paranoia." It was all kinds of weird hearing someone else refer to my father as Dad.

"I'm not paranoid."

"Yeah, right," Adam and I said in unison. Dad fidgeted uncomfortably as we glanced at each other in surprise and then laughed. I just couldn't shake how this whole thing felt right and wrong all at the same time.

"So, uh, any other family I should know about?" Adam looked from Dad to me and back again.

"Sammy has a son," Dad said proudly. I smiled too, remembering what it felt like to hold him in my arms for the first time, how hard it was to leave him to go back on the road. I was more determined then ever before to end this quickly. For my son. I didn't want him growing up the way I did, running from demons.

"Yeah. He's only a couple of months old. His name is Isaiah. I'd love for you to meet him. You can be the cool uncle."

In the end we grudgingly agreed to let Adam finish out his semester. He'd join up with us latter. In the meantime, Dad and I put every protection up that we could think of. Dad made him promise to lay salt lines every night and keep the .45 he gave him close by. I snorted. At least Adam was in double digits before he got his first .45. We went over the gun safety rules with him and he promised to start target practice first thing Monday morning. Dad looked like he wanted to stay longer, but we had a demon infested town to deal with. Seemed like we couldn't get a breath between hunts lately, and it wasn't just us. Everyone was stretched too thin trying to stop a runaway train that showed no signs of slowing.

"Remember what you told me about Jo a few months ago?" Dad's voice was low, just barely clearing the rumble of the Impala's engine. We'd driven together to go see Adam, and usually when we drove together, we took the Impala because Dad sometimes seemed to miss it. Miss _her_. It was supposedly my car now, but he wouldn't so much as let me put a CD player in it.

"Yeah?"

"I keep having these… feelings that don't jive with things I remember. That, plus what you told me about Jo. Somethin's not right. Hasn't been right for about a year now. False memories, or false emotions. I'm not sure which, but we're bein' manipulated."

I felt dread crawl up my spine, cold and harsh. "By _who_? Or _what_?"

Dad shrugged. It wasn't like we had any shortage of enemies. "Not sure, but I got some ideas. Lots of things can mess with your perceptions, emotions and memories. We gotta figure which one's bein' messed with. Then we figure out why and how."

"How?"

"We start with emotions. They're the easiest to fix despite that they're treacherous bastards. Then if that's not it we'll work on perceptions, which are a bitch but still easier than memories. Takes a hell of a lot of juice to alter memories. Practically have to fucking rewire your damn brain. That's not an easy thing to do. Even harder to undo."

"How long's it gonna take?"

"Bobby and I are researching. We've got a bead on something to bring out true emotions. Should be ready soon."

"What about the rest? Perceptions and Memories."

"Those are gonna take more time. Only the nastiest bastards mess with those."

* * *

"How much longer you gonna keep this up, Sam?"

I looked up to see Victor standing next to me at the bar. I frowned at him. "Keep what up?"

"Lying to your father. Sneaking out at night. Treating me like I just fell off the stupid train and landed on my damn head."

I narrowed my eyes and leaned a little closer to him. "What are you implying, Victor?"

"I'm not _implying_ a damn thing. I'm _saying_ that things aren't adding up with you, Sam. You need to talk to your father before somethin' goes wrong."

"Or what?"

Surprise and a little bit of hurt slide through Victor's eyes before he shut it down. "Do you honestly think I'm threatening you here? I thought… look, we've been hunting together for over a year now. We've saved each other's asses more times than I care to count. I would never threaten you."

I let out a slow breath, felt tension seeping out of my body along with it. "Then just trust me, okay? I mean, if you trust me with your life then why not with this?"

"Maybe because you didn't think to ask me to until you got caught out. Look, Sam, you're lying to John. I can't even tell you how uncomfortable I am with that. And you always wait till you think I'm asleep to sneak out. In my experience, people only lie and sneak around when they _shouldn't_ be trusted."

"You mean like the way we lie and sneak around every day?"

"The hunt's different. And even then, we don't do that with each other."

That was the one thing that I hated about Victor. He was just like Dad with his follow orders/obey the chain of command bullshit. I snorted out a bitter laugh. "You have met John Winchester, right? The man lies to us all the damn time. And don't you dare say 'he just doesn't tell us everything.' If he's allowed to have secrets, than so am I, damnit."

Victor shook his head. "You're going to have to grow up one day and get rid of the huge chip on your shoulder. Maybe he's not father of the year, but John's a good man. He took me in and kept me alive, when any other guy would have told me to go fuck myself after what I put the two of you through."

"My father isn't perfect, Victor. Sometimes he's wrong. Sometimes he's got his head so far up his ass he can't figure out which way is up."

"Wow. "

"What?"

"I haven't known you that long, but you're not the same kid I met a year ago. If I didn't know better, I'd swear…"

I snorted. No I wasn't the same. I wasn't weak anymore. I could exorcise demons with my mind. Soon I'd be able to kill them. No, I wasn't impotent little Sammy anymore. "What? What would you swear, Victor?"

"That you're on something."

I snorted and shook my head. "So I'm not just a sneaky lier? I'm a drug addict too?"

"Fits. The lying, the sneaking around, the disappearing at odd hours, the irritability. All this overly aggressive behavior."

"You don't know shit."

"What's your poison, Sammy?"

"It's Sam. Only Dad gets to call me Sammy."

"I haven't noticed any track marks, or any strange smells. So that leaves snorting or swallowing."

"Victor, you're barkin' up the wrong damn tree, man."

"Lot's a things you can take as a powder. Snort it right up your nose, enters the blood stream almost immediately. Instant euphoria. Good way to forget you got two uber demons after you and that we keep losin' more people than we can save while the whole damn world's falling down around your ears."

"You're wrong."

"No, I'm not. Wish I were, but I'm not. You're on something. And you need to tell John before you get someone killed. I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but you're daddy's wrapped a little too tight. Ever wondered what would happen if you got your stupid ass killed? Ever wondered what John would do?"

"He's got Adam."

"Who he's seen maybe four times in the kid's whole life. Not sayin' he doesn't love the kid, but he raised you. Spent his entire life protecting you. If he lost Adam, it would hurt but he'd go on for you. He looses you? He's going down and he's not gettin' back up."

"You're not going to my father about this because there's nothing to tell. I'm not taking any drugs."

"And I almost believe you. You've gotten a hell of a lot better at lying."

"It's your word against mine. Who do you really think Dad's gonna believe? Some guy he's only known for a year, who he met because he wanted to put _me_ on death row, or his son?"

Victor snorted a looked away. "Manipulative. Forgot to add that to my list. I almost don't know what to hope for when this all goes to shit. I don't want to die because you're an idiot who can't keep your shit together. John doesn't deserve to. You deserve it, but John wouldn't survive."

"Dad and I'll be just fine. Thanks."

"The minute I get proof, I'm going to have a long talk with your father."

"It would be in your best interest to drop this."

"Or what, Sam. You gonna be a little slow to save my ass next time we hunt?" My thoughts dragged out in the harsh light of day like that sounded… wrong. So fucking wrong. My stomach did a slow roll and I clenched my jaw. Victor frowned and cocked his head at me. "Who the fuck are you?"

"You could always leave."

"I owe John. Be a sorry way to repay the man to leave now with the way things are."

* * *

Oh God…" Dad's knees buckled and he fell heavily to the floor.

"John… what the hell is it?" Bobby's gruff voice softened a little with concern as he stared at his old friend.

"How the hell could I forget? How could I forget my own son?" His voice was a hoarse, anguished whisper.

"Your own son? What are you talking about Dad?"

"Dean. I _forgot_ him…"

"Jesus Christ, Dad! Have you heard of condoms? You're the one who taught me about protection! Don't tell me you have _another_ son out there somewhere? One that you actually forgot existed."

"No, Sam. _Dean_ taught you about protection. You and I hadn't been getting along that well and I thought it would be easier… God, he was so _proud_ that I trusted him to do it." Dad laughed, his eyes far away as if he were caught in a memory and I felt an icy finger of dread run up my spine. "He… he got this fucking _cucumber_… to use as a demonstration. You couldn't look a cucumber in the eye again for _years_."

"I don't remember any of this."

"I know. I don't think anybody does. He was such a good son… such a good _man_. How could we just _forget_ him like that?" Dad's eyes went suddenly wide and his face lost what little coloring it had left. "Oh shit! That must have been part of the deal…"

"Dad, what the hell are you talking about?" He was making absolutely no sense. If I could have gotten away with it, I would have shaken him.

"We have to get him back, Sam."

"Back? Back from where?"

Dad gave me a look that froze my blood. "Hell."

"Okay… how exactly are we going to get someone out of Hell?"

Dad grabbed my shirt and pulled me against him so that his face was only inches from mine. "Not _someone _Sam… _Dean_. Your older brother, my _first born son_! And if I have to open the Hell's Gate and fight my way to him single handedly, then that's exactly what I'm gonna do!" And with that almost crazed gleam in his eyes, I didn't doubt that he was telling me the absolute truth.

I swallowed and shrank away a little. Even though I knew he'd never hurt me – because God knows I've given him enough reasons if he ever wanted an excuse – my Dad was pretty fucking terrifying when he got this intense. Actually, I'd never seen him quite _this_ intense before.

"What if… what if we _can't_?" I couldn't keep the question from escaping in a hoarse whisper. It was a stupid, useless question because I already knew the answer, already saw it in his eyes, felt it in my bones. I may not know who Dean was… but somehow I _knew_. My Dad was right. We _had_ to get him back. Because what was missing, that big fucking void in our lives? That was _Dean_. I don't know how I knew that but I did and I was suddenly just as anxious as Dad to get him back.

He pulled away from me. "That's not an option, Sammy. I can't… I can't just leave my boy in Hell. He doesn't deserve that. If anyone ever didn't deserve that, it's him."

* * *

_A/N:_

_It's okay, __**redgriffin7**__. I'm glad you enjoyed it and I know you want Dean back… just be patient._

_Well, it looks like I dodged a bullet there, __**kelmar2004**__. Or at least a pitchfork. And hopefully that little chat is starting to make a little more sense now._

_Thanks, __**onlyobsessed**__. I hope I can live up to your expectations._

_Sorry __**Danaa**__, it's not going to be as easy as finding something in Dean's wallet. Hopefully you'll enjoy the ride, though._

_I've haven't written that yet, __**rog457**__, but I think it's a safe bet that John's gonna have a cow. When you really think about it, Hendrickson's a lot like Dean in some ways. I think John might be subconsciously trying to hold onto Dean through him._

_Thanks __**Yammy1983**__!_

_That was my favorite Ruby too, __**Haylia Jones**__. Nothing against Ruby 2's actress, but I just never got used to her. I would have given anything to have the original Ruby back for that last scene when Lucifer was rising. _

_Little more patience, __**greendaypumpkin**__. Dean'll be back. _

_Good guess __**LuckyMe1**__. I didn't get it from Lost although I know that was the name of one of the eps. I thought about it for a while and started to dismiss it when one of the reviews I had mentioned it. And I just thought, you know, it makes a crazy kind of since. Not Tabula Rasa in the positive sense – like a fresh start after bad things, but in the negative sense. Because when everything is wiped away, it's not just the bad. It's all the good too._

_Thanks __**lace and silk**__. Sad and ironic was what I was going for._

_Thanks __**hpsupernaturalfan**__! I hope it will be too!_

_Here you go, __**kminxus**__!_

_Sorry, __**moira4eku**__… you're going to have to wait a little more._

_-Angie_


	3. I Gotta See a Demon About a Seal

**I Gotta See a Demon About a Seal**

"Hey John."

"Victor. " I was under the hood of the Impala. I'd taught Sammy how to do maintenance on her, but unless it was something basic, I tended not to trust him with it, preferring to take care of it myself. He'd whined at first but he seemed to get that I enjoyed it and eventually let me be and now that I remembered everything, I understood my feelings. The Impala had never been Sammy's. I'd given her to Dean because I knew they'd take good care of each other. I was determined that Dean would be driving her again soon. I stood up, cleaning my hands on the rag I'd laid on the engine block for that purpose. He was leaning casually against the side of the car. Kid had turned out to be a damn good hunter. Quick learner, nerves of steel. Enough righteous indignation to keep himself going without the type of tragedy that usually drove people into the job.

"Sure you don't want any company when you go run your errands?"

Sometimes I swear it's like Victor could see right through me the same way that Dean could. I wanted to share Dean with him in some ways more than I wanted to share him with Sammy. Sammy loved Dean, no doubt about it, and I was pretty sure would have died to protect him. Probably would completely loose his shit if the full weight of Dean's loss was ever felt. But there were things about Dean that Sam had never really understood. Stories I couldn't share with him for fear that they would lead to arguments. He had a feeling Victor would understand, though. "No. I need you here."

"I know what you want. I know you're leaving me behind because you think you might not come back. You want me to watch out for Sam."

I nodded and turned back to tighten one last bolt before closing the hood, allowing the silence to stretch comfortably between us. "You and Bobby. I want you to go his place once you two finish this hunt, wait for me. If I'm not there in a week…"

"Damnit, John. The only person in the world that can even come close to keeping Sam in line is you."

I laughed. "That's a fuckin' scary thought, since I haven't been able to keep him in line since he was ten."

"That's not true. I know he gives you a lot of lip, and he sure knows how to push your buttons, but… he cares what you think of him. Kid's running scared, John, and you being gone will only make it worse. I just don't know what he'd do if you weren't around."

"I gotta do this, Victor. You don't have kids, if you did you'd understand. Make sure… make sure he takes the old girl to Bobby's for regular maintenance, will you?"

"Yeah. Watch your ass, John."

* * *

I was well aware of how stupid and dangerous this was even as I drew the circle and lit the candle. If I had any sense, I'd go back and collect my kid from the hotel back in Tulsa that I'd left him in with Victor and find another way. But some things were more important than being smart. Like getting my boy back anyway I could. This was just one more in a long line of stupid, dangerous things I'd done for my sons. Just ask anyone who's known me for more than a few hours. When we'd tried everything we could find that could strip false memories and reveal false perceptions, and then all the relatively harmless ways to restore lost memories, I'd finally turned to the one thing that Bobby and I could find that was purported to restore any lost memories, no matter the cause. Turned out to be Old Norse magic. Dark and dangerous. I didn't tell Sammy about it because there was a good chance that I'd end up a vegetable. I didn't want to have the inevitable argument. The boy had become agitated as a wet cat and even more ill-tempered in the year since we'd lost Dean.

If my relationship with Sam was like navigating a landmine before, it was a thousand times worse now. All the progress we'd made before Cold Oak had been undone – literally – and the kid picked arguments over the stupidest things and I knew risking everything on a possibility would lead to a big one. Nothing happened the first day after I got Bobby to help me with the spell and I thought it was a bust. At least I hadn't been reduced to a drooling, mindless idiot, so it was the good kind of bust even if it was irritating as hell. But the next day, in Bobby's office going over a hunt, it all hit me like a ton of bricks. I was still trying to sort out my memories, trying to weed out the false from the true. But Dean was _real_. I knew he was. I was still trying to figure out how to reverse Sammy's memory loss without risking him, but he seemed to know Dean was real too even without his memories.

The summoning spell wasn't long or impressive. There was no ball of smoke or flash of light. But in the end there was a slightly befuddled demonic bastard standing in front of me in the middle of the woods near where my oldest boy had died in my arms. Bastard blinked at me and smiled.

"John, John, _John_! Long time, no summon. You're lookin' mighty fit there, big guy. Little soft around the middle, but then you're not gettin' any younger, right? Wish I could say it was good to see you again, but I'm really kinda in the middle of things right now." I grit my teeth and somehow kept from launching myself at him and settled for throwing the holy water I was holding in his face instead. The bastard seemed to think it was hilarious. His host's skin didn't even steam. My common sense was trying to catch up with me, trying to warn me that that was a bad fucking sign. But it was a day late and a dollar short. I was already here, already all in. Standing not ten feet away from the thing that had taken 2/3 of my family. Azazel wiped a hand down his face with a sigh. "I see you still need a few anger management classes there Johnny boy."

"I want my boy back."

Azazel frowned at me. "Don't tell me little Sammy's gone missing _again_. It wasn't me this time… scout's honor." He actually held up two fingers, eyes wide and innocent. "You really do need to learn to keep better track of that boy. Maybe a binding spell? Or one of those chip doohickeys people put in their pets? Or a _leash_ even?! I mean, we both know you're not exactly the best daddy on the market, but come _on_! You lose your damn _keys_ less often."

I grit my teeth. I really didn't need this evil fuck reminding me of what a failure I am as a father. "I'm talkin' about _Dean_, you son of a bitch!"

He smiled again, wide and bright and it was all I could do to keep from trying to bash his face in. "Oh, you remembered! There's an unexpected development. Now I really _am_ happy to see you again. I imagine thinking about that brave little boy of yours rotting in Hell for over a hundred years has _got_ to be eatin' you alive."

Over a hundred years? "_What_?"

"Didn't anybody ever tell you?" He clucked his tongue in mock sympathy at the injustice of how poorly informed I apparently was. "A month here is ten _years_ down south. That boy of yours was well on his way to becoming something you'd have to hunt one day real soon. Quick learner, that one. Woulda made great top management. It took a heck of a lot longer than I thought it would to break him. I even put Hell's chief torturer on the case full time and he's been breakin' souls for millennia… and that's in _earth years_. Can't imagine how long it would have taken if he hadn't already been so beautifully broken in the first place. Told you we could make him into somethin' real special."

"I want him back! I'll trade places with him… just… I want my boy _back_!" My voice was growing thick and hoarse. I didn't want to cry in front of this… _thing_. But the idea of Dean becoming one of them twisted my gut into knots.

"I'd do it if I could, really I would. After all, he served his purpose and he wasn't as much fun to play with anymore, not since he gave in. Don't get me wrong, I still got a chill up my spine watchin' him work and all, but you know, it just doesn't have the same allure as listenin' to him scream for you and Sammy to please help him while my best guy was carvin' him to shreds over and over and over again, day after day. Spent _thirty years_ waitin' for Daddy to come ridin' to the rescue and the whole time you didn't even know who in the hell he was. And he _knew_ you didn't. _Knew_ you weren't even missin' him." He chuckled maliciously. "Those were good times. But it might be even more fun to watch him try to deal with all the naughty things he's been up to and know that you traded yourself to get him back after everything. To know from bones to balls that he didn't deserve it. And he'd know in intimate detail exactly what was happening to Daddy down there. Every single minute, it would _torture_ him. I'd even give you a couple of months to watch him fall apart with the anticipation before the real fun started, not that any of you'll make it more than a year now so I wouldn't have that long to enjoy the show, but it's the _principle_ of the thing, you know? That sort of thing has to be _savored_."

"Then do it!" Promising to be this twisted bastard's entertainment was a small price to pay to get my son out of Hell. I would have agreed to do a damn soft shoe routine in a pink tutu on my way to Hell if that's what he wanted.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Sorry, no can do Johnny boy. You know I've often wished that I could make a deal and not have to follow through on my end of the bargain… but alas that's not the way it works. So although we'd love to have you way down south, I got butkus on my end. Unless you wanna trade your soul for somethin' else? Like, oh I don't know, the end of hunger in Batswana?"

"Somethin' else?" I repeated, sounding stupid as my brain went rapid fire through everything he'd said so far. He kept speaking in past tense as if-

"Kid's not in Hell anymore. Hasn't been in quite some time. Only spent forty years with us. Thirty on the rack, ten working the rack, if you get my meaning. Seems like you're not the only one who's desperate to get him outta dodge. Too bad everyone was a day late and a dollar short."

"What the _fuck_ does that mean?" For all their talking, demons rarely made much sense. If they weren't lying through their asses or just generally being a pain in yours, they were talking in riddles.

"You'll find out soon enough." Azazel pushed me away, sent me slamming into a tree and pinned me there. He walked right out of a trap and smiled. "You didn't think somethin' like that would work on somethin' like me did ya? Silly, silly boy. But I got a question for _you_." He leaned forward, palms flat against the tree on either side of my head, his lips next to my ear as he whispered. "How does it feel? To know that you were Dean's hero, the one person on earth that Dean ever really counted on completely to come through when he needed it… when the whole time you knew it was just a pile of horseshit? When you knew that in the end you would let him down? Did it torture you to see all that faith in his eyes? I bet it did, didn't it? Bet you've been seeing those trusting eyes every time you close your eyes since the moment you remembered and it kills you a little bit more inside every. damn. day."

"I will fucking kill you."

He laughed as he backed away. "It's been fun catching up like this Johnny boy, but I gotta go see a demon about a seal. Busy, busy, busy. I'll be seein' you around." He paused as if he'd just remembered something. "Oh, and make sure you enjoy every minute you can with our Sammy. It's almost my turn now." His eyes flashed, becoming brighter for a moment as he let me go and I slide to the ground.

"Wait!" He paused, looking back at me over his shoulder, mildly curious. "I just wanted you to bring my boy back. Then I was gonna kill you."

"Humans… I tell ya. You people have no honor!" He laughed. "That's somethin' I really gotta say I envy about you meatsuits. Your ability to go back on a deal. But you're plan was a non starter. You can't kill me, Johnny."

"Maybe not. But I was gonna damn well try. Contract's void when you kill the demon holdin' it, right? I'd get Dean back, then I'd kill you and we'd be free and clear. That was the plan anyway."

"And just how were you going to accomplish that?"

"Like this." I lifted my left hand to reveal that I'd pulled the Colt when he had his back turned, already cocked, and squeezed the trigger before he could react. The satisfaction of watching the demon die in his host was cold and not nearly _enough_. Because Dean was still gone. I don't know how long I sat there, my brain unable to get past that one fact, unable to concentrate on anything else. I'd been able to stave off the grief once I realized that I could trade places with Dean, that Azazel might hate me enough to go for it. Then I found the letter from Daniel Elkins in the stack of mail that I'd neglected for months. I'd had the weapon that could kill Azazel for a year and never knew it. I would get my son back and destroy the demon that had made our lives hell all at once. But now… I had to face the fact that my boy was gone. I was never going to see that smile again.

When I could finally think again, I still couldn't move. Still felt paralyzed. He'd said Dean spent thirty years on the rack and ten working it… so that was forty years. Four months. It had been over a little over year since I cremated Dean's body. So that means that he'd been out of Hell for almost nine months. But where was he? Was he in Heaven or in some other reality where the good guys went? Like Valhalla or some shit – and wouldn't Dean just fit in somewhere like that. Drinking ale and fighting just for the hell of it for all eternity in a fucking glorified bar. I huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. Or was he somewhere on earth as a ghost? I mean, I'd put his body to a damn good salt and burn – I will not let my mind rest on that memory for too long – so he couldn't actually be _alive_ could he? But if something had enough power to pull him out of Hell and beyond Azazel's reach, then wouldn't it have enough power to put his body back together? And Azazel hadn't offered to bring him back to life for my soul… But that just meant that Azazel couldn't resurrect him, not that he wasn't… not that he wasn't _gone_ at all.

No matter how hard I tried to stop the memories, my mind kept going back to him laying in my arms at that crossroads. The way he looked up at me like he was relieved I was there and tried to speak, the way his hands fisted in my shirt as he died. He died in my arms. And I didn't even know who the fuck he was. A sob tore out of me as I cried in earnest for the first time since I'd remembered, no hope left to stave off the pain. Cried so hard that I didn't think I'd ever stop, that I'd just fuckin' die from it, a dried out husk out here in the middle of nowhere. I dragged in gasping, ragged breaths as reality set in. My son was dead. My Dean was _gone _and I'd been right fucking _there_ and hadn't even said goodbye. Or told him how much I loved him. That he'd been the only thing that kept me going too many days to count.

* * *

"What the hell, John?" Bobby looked around his study in disbelief. I'd pretty much trashed it before collapsing into a heap in the corner, bottle of Jack held loosely in one hand. But I wasn't drunk though. Not yet.

"He's gone." I didn't recognize my own voice. It was thick with the tears that had dried up hours ago, chocked with the grief that felt like it was going to drive me out of my mind.

"Who's gone?"

"I tried to sell my soul to get him back. Couldn't even fuckin' do that." I rubbed my face angrily with one hand, vaguely aware that Sam was standing in the doorway watching me. Sammy… I needed to pull my shit together for him if for no other reason. I'd killed Azazel, made sure he'd never be able to come after Sammy again and I couldn't even be happy about it. In some ways the kid was lucky. He couldn't grieve what he didn't remember in the first place, which had obviously been Dean's aim. But Dean _deserved_ to be remembered, to be grieved. To be missed.

"John… what the hell have you done?"

"Nothin'… told you. Azazel can't make a deal if he's got nothin' on his end to deal with."

"Azazel? What the _fuck_, John." Bobby's voice sounded like dry leaves blowing over barren ground and I couldn't figure out which was the stronger emotion in it – fear or irritation.

"I summoned him to get my boy back." I glared at him as I bit out the words, daring him to find fault, to judge me. Yeah it was stupid. But I would do a hell of a lot stupider for my boys and if Bobby didn't get that after all these years… well, he could just go right out and fuck himself.

"You _summoned_ him? John, we don't know how powerful that son of a bitch is… he waltzed right in here through every goddamn ward and trap I got like it was nothin'. We don't know how to contain that son of a bitch."

"Yeah, well holy water, salt and the second key with his proper name don't work on him either."

Bobby drew in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. Using a demon's true name in a special trap should work no matter how powerful the demon. The fact that it hadn't this time either meant that Azazel wasn't it's true name, or the thing had more juice than any demon in recorded history. "You damn _ijit_! He could have killed your dumb ass, you stupid son of a bitch."

"Yeah, well. I killed him."

That took all the wind out of the old bastard's sails and he blinked at me owlishly. "You what?"

"I shot him with the Colt. That sure fuckin' worked. Daniel was right. It'll kill anything. Sammy's free now. That's somethin'. Son of a bitch already took one of my boys, won't get a chance at another."

"Maybe we can use the gun on Lilith."

I glared at Bobby. Lilith? What the fuck did I care about Lilith? My boy was dead. "Dean's not in Hell, and the yellow eyed bastard had no idea where he is."

"What the hell could… how in the world could he get outta Hell?"

"Don't know. All I know is…" I stopped as a lump formed in my chest and I just wanted to cave in on myself and _stop_… just stop remembering, stop breathing, stop living with the loss of my first born curled up in my chest like a living thing. "He's gone. He went through so much. Then he went to Hell, and now he's god knows where. I can't… I can't do this, Bobby. I can't. I don't know how to live with Dean gone."

"I think I should call Jo and tell her to wait 'till tomorrow to bring Zeke over." It was the first thing that Sam had said as he watched from the doorway like he was too afraid to come in, or at least the first thing I heard. It also cut through the fog of my grief enough to shake loose an unwelcome memory and I involuntarily counted back from Zeke's birthday. Oh, god… that boy was conceived when Sam was possessed, which we obviously had forgotten about along with Dean. If Sam ever remembered that… Worse, if demonic possession changed the host's blood, what the hell did it do to… other bodily fluids? What the hell did that make my grandson? I felt the blood in my veins go cold. I shook my head, I couldn't think about that right now. I still had something else to tell.

"Dean broke the first seal, Bobby. He was the righteous man in hell."

Bobby's face lost coloring. "You sure?"

"He was… he was already so broken. And he… God, Bobby, he died thinking we'd never remember him. That no would ever remember him."

* * *

_A/N: I hope everyone had a great Easter weekend! I know all of you are anxious to see Dean again. Patience, we'll get there. I know some of you were confused by the last chapter. It covered an entire year's worth of time so when Jo freaked out on Sam, she was still in her second trimester and hoped up on pregnancy hormones. By the time Sam met Adam, she'd had the baby and then John remembered several months later. It took John months of research to find answers after Sam talked to him about Jo, and then a few more to work through possible solutions. And Jo wasn't remembering so much as she was having sense memory… it's not memory exactly, it's actually an emotional response to certain stimuli – that can be either memory or, in Jo's case, a specific situation. So the poor girl is probably very confused about why she reacted the way she did._

_I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, **kelmar2004**. Hope you enjoy this one at least as much!_

_Glad you're happy **lace and silk**!_

_Thanks, **Haylia** Jones! I love the dynamic that having Hendrickson around brings to the table._

_You know, **redgriffin7**, I figured that if anyone was going to figure out that Sam was on something, it would be Victor. John's been too distracted trying to figure out who's been fucking with their memories/perceptions/etc. to notice, otherwise he probably would have found out about Ruby by now and found some way to get rid of her. And he's used to having a second set of eyes watch out for Sam and he's fallen into that pattern with Victor without even realizing it. Victor goes along with it because, like he said, he sees how stretched thin John is between trying to stop the apocalypse and digging for answers and he also feels he owes John._

_I know, **rog457**. That last chapter had to be dull as dishwater with nothing new going on. LOL_

_.**Dakotta**., I can just see Sam staring at his father with his patiented bitch face while uttering that condom line. LOL. Sammy can be so sanctimonious sometimes. I think if Dean had to teach your friend about sex, he wouldn't be using a cucumber, especially if she's cute. He'd be much more… hands on._

_Oh, **Crash_n_Burn**, fret not. There will be angst aplenty._

_I answered at least one of your questions, **greendaypumpkin**. The rest will be answered in the next three or four chapters. And yeah. I am evil for keeping you hanging on that long. But if I answered everything at once, what would be the point of reading the rest of the story?_

_-Angie_


	4. Laying to Rest

**Laying to Rest**

I sat in the pasanger's seat of the Impala going over the notes John'd given me. A rugaro. "Who the fuck comes up with these names, anyway?"

Sam huffed out an impatient breath. "So Dad just took off?"

I sighed, because I was really tired of this conversation. I could feel in my gut that this was going to be one of the ones that leaves you all ripped up. I just wanted to live through this job and go to Bobby's and hopefully not go out of my mind worrying about John coming back. And not the least of the reasons I wanted to see the man again was so I wouldn't be stuck with his mood, drug-addicted, petulant kid for the rest of my natural life. It reminded me of why I'd never had children. "John didn't just take off. He went to follow up on a lead to get your brother back. Just because he didn't tell us what the lead was or where it was is no reason to make him sound like some irresponsible asshole. Now can we talk about this job? Please?"

"You're always defending him."

"Somebody has to, with the way you like to make a federal case out of every fucking thing the man does. I'm just waiting for the argument you're going to pick over the way the man breathes."

"I'm not that bad."

"Sam… I kept waiting for John to go on a weeklong bender after the way you talked about his drinking."

"He does drink a lot."

"Yeah. So does Bobby. And Caleb. And after a year on this job? Seeing zombies and werewolves and every other nightmare you can name and some nobody's even though up yet come to life? I drink a hell of a lot more than I used to. So… back to this case. You think this guy is really turning, or do you think John's friend is just a nutcase."

Sam snorted and for a second I thought he was going to go back to ripping on John. "He's a hunter, so it's 99.9% certain that he's definitely a nutcase. Doesn't mean he's wrong. But hunter's tend to jump the gun when it comes to the supernatural. I mean… what if he can control himself?"

"And if he can't? You comfortable with the blood of whoever he kills on your hands?"

"So you'd kill the guy just based on the possibility that he'd hurt someone? No… no proof, no mercy?"

"Didn't say that. Just said we can't afford to go in wearing rose colored glasses."

"You sayin' that's what I'm doin'?"

I sighed. Why was it always such a chore to have a simple conversation with this kid? "Sammy, sometimes I think you've got rose colored implants surgically attached to your eyes. Except when John breathes wrong."

* * *

Caleb was taking the rugero, or whatever the hell it was, and John had sent us after something he thought he'd already taken care of instead. An easy job he'd said. Easy was, of course, a matter of interpretation. I wasn't sure if I should be flattered that John thought I could handle this type of shit well enough to trust me with Sam's back… or curse him out the next time I saw him. I sat up with a groan. It had only been a day, but I was starting to doubt that we'd make it to Bobby's within a week. And what the fuck was my vision trying to do? I shook my head a little to clear it and was instantly rewarded with nausea and the phantom feeling of being on a violent sea. Oh, great. A concussion. But I didn't have time to enjoy it. I had to move. I didn't see or hear Sam. Fucking kid better not be dead, I thought as I dragged myself to my feet, my jaw clinched against the nausea, and staggered to the light. Because if he was dead, I was going to have to kill him. I paused at that thought, because, really, that made no fucking sense. Concussion. Shit.

Fucking immortal obsessive organ removing doctors. Next time John wanted one of his old, reanimated urban legends put down for good, he could damn well come and do it his fucking self. I could still hear John saying that his mistake was that he couldn't come back to salt and burn the corpse after he took the docs heart. Something about trying to get an innocent to safety and then being run out of town by cops before he could finish what he'd started. He looked meaningfully at me when he uttered that last sentence, but I had been able to hold his eye. Benton had obviously found a way to get a new one heart. The freak. John had said he was easy enough to take down solo, so Sam and I shouldn't have any problems. Well, either Benton had learned some new tricks despite that old saw about old dogs or John was a hell of a lot better hunter than me and Sammy combined. Because this son of a bitch wasn't goin' down easy.

It wasn't a good thing that I woke up sans Sammy. Benton could be needing anything, at least fifty percent of it lethal to the donor… bastard looked like a patchwork quilt put together by a two year old. And five would probably get me a hundred that Sammy was going to be the son of a bitch's lucky donor. Kid had that kind of luck. Should have listened to Bobby that first day I met him. Being in the orbit of a Winchester wasn't exactly the healthiest place to be. Or the smartest.

I find Sam strapped to a table in a room down the hall from where I came too. Everything was blurry and hazy, and the room wouldn't stop spinning, but Benton doesn't seem like he's willing to wait for me to feel like playing along because he's bent over Sam with some kind of thing that looks like a freaky ice cream scoop and… yeah. He must need new eyes and that's just not right. I pull out my gun and aim it at him. Take half a second to consider whether I'd accidentally hit Sam in my state, but really… that's almost academic at this point because another two seconds or so of hesitation and Sam's going to missing at least one eye. The way Benton's head explodes is kind of satisfying. But he doesn't go down. Of course he doesn't. Bastard found a way to keep going without his damn heart, so why the fuck would he need a brain? Which begs the question… if he doesn't need the parts why the hell does he keep replacing them? I mean really? Benton glares at me and starts going on and on about something and I'm not really following. Wow… I must be even more fucked up then I thought. And that's saying something. He throws me, because there's nothing better for severe concussions than being thrown into things. What is it with this job anyway? Every other day I'm getting thrown. Before I can debate the merits of hacking this fucker into pieces, I'm being picked up again and thrown like a fucking rag doll. Really… this is getting embarrassing. My head lulls to the side and I'm pretty sure I'm drooling. Right in front of my face is a big brown jar. I can read the label, but I'm having trouble understanding it. My brain keeps trying to tell me it's important even as it tries to turn the block letters into hieroglyphs, but my body doesn't really give a fuck. Cause see, my body… my body's convinced that what I really need to do is go to sleep right now and then, when I wake up all chirpy and refreshed, tell John exactly where he can stuff 'the job' and his drug addicted blind brat.

But my brain… fucking thing just won't give up. Benton has, though. On me at least, cause he's heading back towards Sammy and part of me feels totally dissed over that. 'Cause I'm still alive. What? Am I that non-threatening now that he can just give me his back like I'm some sort of hapless bitch? I can hear Sammy screaming my name. And really, the kid's not that bad. For a self-righteous drug addict with anger issues. I force myself up to my knees as I squint at the brown bottle. Chloroform… that's for… that's for… I struggle trying to remember and a stray memory pops up. Sitting alone in an office going over autopsy reports during my third case with the Bureau. Wendy Parker. Twenty-four. Victim number eight. Raped and eviscerated after being drugged with… _chloroform_. There's a scalpel next to the bottle. It takes a little longer than it should have to get the top off. I dip the scalpel in and let the bottle drop. That's distracts Benton from his task and hopefully Sam still has both his eyes. John would never forgive me if I let Sam get blinded. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he is. Of course losing his eyes could make him and even bigger pain in the ass, which would be tragic for all involved.

I moved away from the bottle as quickly as I could, trying to look as if I am afraid and skittering away from Benton, hiding the scalpel in my hand without cutting myself. Benton hissed and grabbed me by the arm, lifting me up again like I weighed nothing. I took the opportunity to stab him in the arm with the scalpel, pushing it in as far as I could to get as much of the chloroform in his system as possible. He laughed at me… until he felt himself start to waver on his feet. He dropped me before he feel and of course I hit my head again. I rolled over onto my hands and knees, groaning. "What you get for givin' me you're back, mother fucker," I mutter before throwing up.

"Victor!" Sam sounded like he was yelling at me from miles away.

"Dude… I'm gonna throw up."

"Already did that."

"Right. Gonna do it again, then."

"Think you can untie me first?"

I crawled over to the table, careful to avoid the pool of vomit, and fumbled with the strap on his arms until it finally gave. He could do the rest. I was tired.

I woke up to someone slapping me. And really, if I thought I could move? I'd punch back. I pushed the hands away, feeling like I was moving through molasses. "S'op."

I heard Sam huffing from above me. "You gotta stay awake. You're concussed."

"Kno' that."

"Good. Don't make me slap you again."

"Benton?"

"Just chained him up in a freezer. About to bury his ass."

"Burn 'im first. John said."

"Yeah, okay."

"S'my?"

"Yeah?"

"Got eyes?"

"Victor… can't you see me?"

"Eyes closed"

"Shit." Cursing. That couldn't be good, I thought as I drifted away into nothingness.

* * *

I woke up in the hospital to Sam hovering over me. I tried to move, but found that I couldn't. For a heart stopping moment I thought I was paralyzed then I realized I was just strapped down. Just because being strapped down, while still not even close to desirable, was way fucking better than paralyzed. "Sam… what the fuck?"

"Victor? What year is it?"

"It's the year I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't tell me why the hell I'm strapped to a hospital bed."

"Jesus. Thank God. You scared the hell out of us, man."

"Why?"

"That concussion was… it was bad."

"How long?"

"How long have you been here, or how long have you been making no sense whatsoever?"

"_What_?"

"You sang the Star Spangled Banner yesterday. In falsetto. Before that you tried to beat up a candy stripper because you claimed he was a garden gnome. I tried to explain that you aren't biased against 'little people,' but I don't think he believed me."

"Tell me you're pranking me again, Sam."

"Fraid not. You've been here for four days. You only woke up yesterday, and today… well, today's the first day you've been even close to normal. Uhm… Victor?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you, uh… can you see me?"

I laughed. "Yeah, Sam. I can see you. Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yeah, mostly. Except yesterday. Went to Bobby's because Jo was going to being the baby. That didn't work out so well, though."

"Where's John?"

"Getting coffee."

"Did he find your bother?"

Sam looked away. "About that…"

* * *

"What did you do?" Sam had his arms folded, staring at his father in open disapproval and more than a little self-righteous indignation. I swear I don't know how I ever thought John Winchester was an abuser, because the man was practically a saint not to smack that look right off his son's face. We were in a hotel just outside of Kansas – and I have no idea why it struck me as funny that the Winchesters were from Kansas of all fucking places – and they would be burying the oldest Winchester son, or what was left of him, next to his mother in the morning. Sam seemed as torn up about it as John, and I couldn't figure out why he'd choose now to pick a fight.

John sighed heavily. Since he'd remembered Dean, he'd done a good job of not getting sucked too far into arguments with Sam. "I don't know. But I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"You did something to remember Dean."

John's eyes narrowed as he gave Sam an appraising look. "Yes, I did. It was dangerous and I'm not doing it to you."

"Why?"

"Because the universe hates me and I'm not prepared to take the chance that it will seize the opportunity to turn you into a vegetable and then turn all its focus on Adam."

"Damn it, Dad, this isn't about you!"

"No. I guess you're right. I'm selfish to try to keep you healthy and find another way to restore your memories. To not want to risk losin' you the way I lost Mary and Dean. I should be taken out back and shot."

"And you didn't happen to think about what would happen to me if something had happened to you?"

"I had to know if what was going on would endanger you. Otherwise I never would have taken the risk."

"So of course you try it on yourself without even discussing it with me."

"Damnit Sammy! There was nothin' to discuss. I wasn't going to do it to you or Jo. I didn't know who else it effected, so I was the only other logical choice. Hell, I was the only logical choice. And if I'd thought there was any way in the world that I could talk it over with you without you doing _this_, I would have."

"God, you are such a control freak!"

"You think I was trying to control things?"

"You got all the memories. I only know what you choose to tell me."

I eyed the door longingly, but I'd have to cross between the two men to get to it. Fuck! The only thing in the world worse than being in the room with two arguing Winchesters was to be _between_ two arguing Winchesters. I could only hope that this didn't come to blows because then I'd feel obligated to try to stop it.

"If you only knew how badly I want you to remember. How much I just want to talk about him to someone who _knew_ him. Who remembers his horrible table manners and his shameless skirt chasing." John's voice was soft and he seemed… smaller. Diminished. He let out a weak snort. "Some of the things he'd say. God he was so funny. Just, without even tryin'. Half that time I didn't know if I should laugh or smack him upside the head. He'd embarrass us on purpose, with that damn cocky grin of his lightin' up the room. Didn't trust easy, but once he did he was so loyal. Risked his life without a second thought if he thought somthin' was worth it. He was the best damn hunter I ever saw. Best damn man I ever met. Loved you… loved us… more than either of us ever deserved. And I wish I wasn't the only person on earth that remembered all that about him. 'Cause he deserves to be remember by everyone who knew him. The emptiness he left behind in this world should be acknowledged… _felt_ by more than just me. And I wish you could tell me about all the shit the two of you got into together that you managed to hide from me, because as much as I caught the two of you in, I'm not fool enough to think I caught it all."

Sam hugged himself and had the good grace to look ashamed. "I… you can tell me about him, if you want. You don't… I'll listen, whatever you wanna tell me."

John nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."

* * *

"I'm so sorry…" John's voice was low and harsh as he knelt before Mary Winchester's grave. He reached out and gently cleaned some dirt that had settled in the engraving on her headstone. I shuffled my feet, feeling like I was eavesdropping, even though John was well aware that I was there and could hear everything he said. Sam had already said his goodbyes the day before, looking uncomfortable and… sad. Heartbreakingly sad. How did you morn someone you couldn't even remember? And there he stood at the graves of two family members he had not one memory of. Wishing he could remember what made them both so special, why it hurt so much that he'd never see Dean again. We were on our way out of town now and John had stopped one last time. He wouldn't likely be back unless someone else opened the Gate or he had to bury another family member – something I doubted he'd survive. Hell, I wasn't sure how he's survive this.

"I know I promised… I promised to protect them. But I fucked up. I wasn't strong enough and I…" he chocked out a bitter laugh and wiped a tear that managed to fall. "I lost 'em both on the same night, you know. Lost Sam, then Dean to bring Sammy back. When you died… I was adrift for years. Now that Dean's gone… I don't have that luxury. How the hell am I gonna keep Sam safe while the world's ending when I couldn't even do it before? I don't even know where Dean is. I hope he's with you. And that means it's your turn to take care of our boy." He snorted. "I'm sure you'll do a lot better job of it than I did."

When he was done, we walked back to the cars slowly.

"Did I know him?"

John paused and looked at me. At first I thought I'd said the wrong thing, but he finally smiled. "Yeah. You have him to thank for your new wonderful life. You were obsessed with catching him. But you never could, till one day… we were set up."

"Gordon Walker."

"Yeah."

"So it wasn't Sammy I was after?"

"No. You thought Sammy was just following him around, cleaning up his messes."

"Huh. You know… Joshua was telling me that Gordon turned up dead a bit ago."

"Yeah. Heard that too. Bastard wasn't exactly a well loved guy."

"Wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?" He narrowed his eyes at me and I shrugged, ending the interrogation there. Old habits died hard. It wasn't like I was going to arrest him or anything though.

After a moment of silence, John sighed. "Not a clue. Wish it had been me, though. I owed the man. Disappoints me that I never got the chance to pay that debt."

I snorted, knowing he was telling the truth. "What happened to not killing humans?"

"I got one rule that supersedes all other rules, even that one. Nobody touches my boys and lives to tell about it. Nobody. 'Sides… Gordon was barely ever human."

* * *

Sam and I were following John's truck when suddenly it swerved and slowed. Sam had to hit the brakes hard to avoid rear ending him. Thankfully the roads were mostly deserted at this time of night and we pulled over onto the shoulder. John was on the phone and even from where I sat I could tell his shoulders were tense.

"What the hell do you think that's about?"

I shook my head and waited. Sure enough Sam's phone rang about a minute and a half after we'd stopped.

"Yeah? Okay, but why? Yeah, yeah… alright." Sam glanced at me. "He wants you to drive, says to make sure you keep up with him." He got out of the car and came around the passenger's side and I slide across the bench and took the wheel. John was obviously about to break several traffic laws and I wondered what the hell the hurry was. Sam got in and John was moving again before the door was closed good, me right on his tail. "_What_? Are you sure it's him? Where the hell's he been for the past nine months? He was… what the hell was he doing with _Adam_?" Sam hung up the phone with a huff and sat staring at it.

"What? What about Adam?"

"Dean's with him."

"Dean? You're brother, Dean? The one we just buried back in Lawrence?"

Sam let out a snort. "Yeah. That would be the one."

"And he's with Adam? You're other brother? The one he never knew about?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"I don't know. Dad says Dean saved him from ghouls or something and he's been teaching him how to hunt since, but they're in trouble and we need to get to them before the werewolves eat them."

"Wait a minute… werewolves?" Shit. Winchesters had the worst luck in the known universe. Up ahead, John wasn't just breaking the speed limit… he was trying to break the damn sound barrier. Thankfully I was driving something even faster than that monster of a truck.

* * *

_A/N: **I had to repost this b/c I made a mistake with the hunt and had to fix it. Sorry. I'm blaming it on being sick. Anyway, if you read it before I deleted it, please check out the beginning of the part where Hendrickson comes to to find Sammy gone.** Sorry I'm late getting this up. I was sick. Not quite all better now, but close enough. I hope you all enjoyed Hendrickson's concussed stream of consciousness thought process. And I'm so glad I incorporated Adam before the show did… it makes me feel all prescient and stuff. LOL. And did anyone else catch that John and Mary are __**both**__ missing from Heaven? I mean… no one seemed to know where either of them was. Mmmmm…_

_Glad to see you still with me __**EtainAingeal**__. Hope all is well!_

_I know, __**lace and silk**__. I can't see John really surviving the death of one of his sons…_

_Here's a little peak at what Dean's been up to, __**kelmar2004**__. But that's not even the half of it. Dean's had a very busy nine months. I'll tell you more about it in the next chapter._

_John's life isn't getting any less complicated, that's for sure __**Haylia Jones**__._

_Thank you so much, __**Crash_n_Burn**__! I kind of have this vision of how despite how a heck of a lot of things that changed because of what happened to Dean, none of the basics really did._

_You know, __**rog457**__, I don't think canon John is as bad as he appears. I think if we could have gotten into his head like you can in this story, people would like him more. I think that's why they keep making the parallels between him and God. I mean… everyone thinks God is out of the fight on the show and just leaving everyone to drown without him… but where is he? He's on earth. Why would he be on earth is he's just gonna let it all end? Why wouldn't he be on Pluto or even another solar system. There's a method to God's madness and since John has been so strongly paralleled with him in the show's methos, I'd have to say there's a method to John's madness too. But, I could be wrong. Anyway, John's choices are going to get harder and harder. Poor sap._

_**Greendaypumpkin**__, they're Winchesters… have you ever seen a Winchester catch a break? Even poor Adam got chewed up and spit out. Literally. I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing._

_Yeah __**redgriffin7**__… poor Jo. And Sam's not gonna be loving those memories either._

_No, they aren't the same without him __**LuckyMe1**__. Not even close._

_-Angie_


	5. Reason Enough

**Reason Enough**

I woke up by the side of the road feeling like I'd just survived the biggest bender ever. _Fuck_. As soon as I can remember whatever the hell I was drinking last night, I'm swearing it off for life 'cause anything that makes you pass out on the side of the fucking road? You don't ever need to drink again. I blinked open my eyes and the sunlight burned like I hadn't seen it in years and it was trying to grill my brain in revenge. I snapped them shut immediately, deciding a more gradual approach was in order. I was outside, on the ground. Knew that without looking. Could feel the breeze on my skin, hear nature right up close and way too personal. Had Sammy talked me into going camping or some shit? It was one of the few things that Sam and Dad both liked to do and, predictably, it was something I hated. Seemed Dad and Sam could only agree on something that I agreed with neither of them about.

I sat up slowly with a groan. My body felt foreign, like I was trying to wear someone else's shoes that were a little too tight. I tried opening my eyes again, keeping them at a squint. I was on a dirt road. A crossroads. And suddenly everything came back in a rush. I would have thrown up if I'd had anything in my stomach. As it was all I could do was dry heave.

Hell was one place I didn't want to remember, but I'd spent more time there than I had been alive. The thought made my hands shake. Why was I back on earth? What _year_ was it? It had to be almost 2050. Was my family even still alive? Dad would be, what? Circling ninety? I couldn't imagine him ever being that old, but I couldn't imagine him dying either. Sammy, Bobby… everyone I knew would all be either dead or really fucking old. I knew this road, remembered driving it to reach Cold Oak and feeling a chill when I realized that I was passing over a crossroads. Dad looked like he felt the same way. If anyone had told me then that both of us would be seeking it out just a few hours later, I wouldn't have believed them. I forced the memory back and headed for the little rinky gas station that had been a couple miles down the road then and hoped it was still standing. I was hungrier then I'd ever been in my life and my throat was as dry as the Mohave Desert. I still had on the same clothes, although they seemed a lot newer and cleaner then they had in my memory, but my wallet was MIA. I probably wouldn't be able to use the IDs but the cash would have been useful. Unless the currency had changed. Shit.

I found the gas station after walking for what felt like forever. It looked almost exactly as it had in my memory, except maybe a little more overgrown. Wow. That held up good. I headed straight for the water. Food wouldn't go down till I had some fluid in me, dry as my mouth and throat were. Dad would have slapped me on the back of the head if he saw the way I guzzled the water down, but I couldn't bring myself to care right now. I was so damn _thirsty_. I grabbed the nearest food I could reach, which happened to be a bag of Cheetos. I stuffed my face as I made my way around the counter to grab a bag. The place was deserted now, but I had no idea how long that would last. I needed to pack some shit and get a move on. I stared at the cash register for a moment before shrugging and breaking it open. I only took a little. Enough to get a decent place to crash for the night and maybe a hot meal in the morning. Guess they still had the same currency after all. I looked up and there, near the door, was a newspaper. Newspapers had dates. I rushed over and snatched it up. The date was… that just _had_ to be wrong… I'd only been dead for _four months_? I looked at the expiration date on the chips in my hand. The _fuck_? No. Seriously. What the _fuck_? Years had passed in the pit… _decades_.

My family… Dad and Sammy were still alive. That thought got me moving again. I began stuffing water and food in my bag. I had to get to them. Suddenly, I was assaulted by light and sound. And yeah, sounds lame, but that's what it was. A high pitch screeching that felt like it was going to make my ears bleed and shattered all the glass in the little convenience store, and a light that was brighter than staring straight at the sun. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, covered my ears and folded in on myself until it stopped. Salt. Yeah, salt was a _stellar_ idea. If only I had my gun and knives too. Damn it. Did Dad and Sam do something to bring me back? If they did, where the hell were they? Then I remembered, and my entire body went cold. I told the crossroads bitch to make them forget me. I nearly dropped the bag, but tightened my grasp on it just in time. _Get a fucking grip, Dean, _I told myself._ There's no time for the whiny little bitch thing. You got out of Hell somehow and somethin's after you right now._ I got another bag and loaded it up with salt. I needed a place to hole up, figure some shit out.

Panic kept trying to crawl up my throat, but I kept pushing it down. Dad always said you couldn't think in a panic. So don't panic. Dad just thinks I'm some dead stranger he stumbled across one day and not a single fucking soul on earth knows who I am. My entire life might as well have never happened. As far as everyone else is concerned, it never did. Yeah. Not a goddamn thing at all to fucking panic about. I paused, pushed harder till it gave and I was as close to chill as I was ever going to be under the circumstances. I was here for a reason, and I needed to figure out what it was. Needed to know what was after me because not having much to live for didn't mean that I wanted to go back to Hell. I'd thought my life was bad before… but Hell was so much worse. I'd do it all over again for Sam and Dad, but never for any other reason. I took a deep breath and kept moving.

* * *

I was too busy freaking out to notice it before, but I didn't have any scars. I stood in the bathroom staring in the mirror, the water in the shower running. I guess it made a freaky sort of sense. I mean, after four months my body had to be pretty decomposed. If Dad buried me instead of burning me. If he'd burned me… then there wasn't a body. Just some ashes and bits of bone mixed in with the ashes from the wood he'd used. Hell, the human body was mostly water. Most of the ash would be from the wood.

But still… those scars told the story of my life. Each one had a memory. With Dad, with Sammy. Times we'd saved each other's asses, times that I'd been injured and that they'd patched me up. My whole life was just… gone. Wiped away. It freaked me out about as much as the only other mark left on my body besides the tattoo. A hand print. Like a burning hot hand had grabbed me by the arm. I probed at a memory in my head and was rewarded with phantom pain, searing from the print on my arm and racing through my body. I had been standing at the rack… _working,_ when suddenly there was a light brighter then I'd seen in decades, brighter then I'd ever remembered the sun being, and pain in my arm. Then it had all gone blank. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the middle of the road. In a pristine body with not a mark on me but an anti-possession tattoo and a hand print on my arm.

I finally climbed into the shower, feeling unclean and cold. Hell hadn't had as much fire as I'd expected, but it had been hot. The world was cold and big and empty. And I was alone in it with no weapons and no idea how I'd even gotten back. Or why. There was always a why, right? And if my family didn't even know I existed, then it wasn't anything they'd done. For now I needed supplies. And that left either stealing them outright, or hustling to buy them. Hustling without weapons, though… I shivered at the idea. So, stealing it is.

I could break into the local gun store and acquire a piece or two. But that would only be an annoyance to anything that would be coming after me. The quickest way to acquire some truly lethal shit was to find a hunter's stash. Every hunter worth his salt had one, in case things went to shit and they needed a bolt hole. And I knew where my Dad's was. I felt bad about the idea of stealing from my father, but I reasoned that it wasn't really stealing. I mean, there was a _reason_ that I knew where it was and how to get to it. It was my stash too. That didn't change just because he didn't remember me anymore.

* * *

I sat on the bench at a playground, my newly acquired handgun resting comfortingly against the small of my back. Despite the fact that I probably really shouldn't be out in the open any more than absolutely necessary, I felt claustrophobic sitting in the room. I'd gotten a double out of habit. But there was no Dad. No Sammy. No one. I didn't even have Bobby, or Joshua, or Pastor Jim to turn to. They'd probably take me in if they thought I was a hunter down on my luck, but I couldn't chance running into Sam or Dad. I didn't think I could take either of them looking at me like a stranger. That day I'd died in my father's arms, I realized that I had a special look. I mean, I'd always known that Sammy did, that Dad looked at him a certain way. It belonged to Sammy, and nobody else ever got that look from Dad. I'd grown up seeing. But it had never occurred to me that I had my own special look too. Until Dad looked down at me and it wasn't there anymore. I didn't want to see what wasn't there anymore. And I didn't want to suddenly discover that Sam had a special look for me too by realizing it was gone the way I had with Dad. So, no. I didn't want to come face to face with my family again. Besides, they thought I was dead. Probably try to kill me, just on principle. I know I would if some son of a bitch popped up alive and kicking that I'd watched die with my own eyes. I was good hunter. I knew how to get enough money from scams to keep myself fed, clothed, sheltered and supplied. I could go on without them, but I was having a hard time remembering why I should go on.

I mean, I'd been to hell. And I knew the world was on its way there on a greased rail. This was all going to end bloody. But I looked around me, at the kids playing. Mothers watching their every move. These people didn't know anything about the supernatural, not really. Not even the religious ones who prayed at night and went to church. They couldn't fight for themselves. Hunters did that. And god help me, I was a hunter. Eventually, I got up and dragged my sorry ass back to the hotel. I wasn't going to give up. Of all the lessons my father had taught me, that had never been one of them. I was still a Winchester, even if I was the only person who knew that, so I was a stubborn son of a bitch. That just had to be reason enough.

* * *

"_Me_?" I stared incredulously at the dark haired man that had appeared in the middle of my hotel room, and who I'd just spent twenty minutes trying to kill. Indestructible bastard looked like a tax attorney in a trench coat and didn't even fight back, which was just fucking embarrassing. Just stood there looking fucking perplexed and calm while I stabbed and shot him. Finally, I just got tired of trying to kill him and let him talk. Turned out he was supposedly an angel who pulled me out of Hell under God's orders because the big guy supposedly had work for me to do. That's great. Where the hell was he two years ago when I could have used his help? Figures he'd show up after just about every bad thing that could happen did and ask me for a favor. Who knew God was dick. Hell, who even knew he – and angels for that matter – even _existed_. So finally, this guy, this Castiel, tells me that I'm the world's only hope. Right. No pressure there. "Look, you got the wrong Winchester. You need to be talkin' to my fa- to _John_. He's the real hero of the family. I'm just the fuck up he's lucky to be rid of."

"He misses you."

I huffed out a laugh. "He doesn't even _remember_ me."

Castiel cocked his head and looked at me like I was a new species of bug he'd found. Dude was fucking creepy. And his lack of any kind of need or respect for personal space was annoying. "He knows there's something important he's missing. He just doesn't realize it's you."

I regarded the angel silently for a moment, just until I could get myself under control enough to trust my voice. "Really?"

"Yes. His love for you didn't just go away because he can't remember who that love is for."

My Dad loved me. Even though he couldn't remember me, he still loved me. That meant something, right? That he could forget me and still love me anyway? "Look, dude, you want me to figure out how to stop them from breakin' seals, then I'm gonna need some backup."

Castiel cocked his head like I was speaking a language he didn't understand. "Backup?"

"Yeah, someone to watch my fuckin' six." He just blinked at me again and I sighed. "Look, I know how I can probably find somebody. Just give me a few days."

And that's how I ended up at the roadhouse nursing a beer and trying to screw up the courage to talk to Ellen.

"What is it kid?"

I looked up to see the older woman standing in front of me, leaning casually against the bar. "What?"

"You been sittin' there for the better part of an hour shootin' me looks through your lashes. Either you got some serious Mommy issues and you're tryin' to figure out how to hit on me, or you wanna ask me somethin'."

I snorted out a laugh. "I'm lookin' for somebody. A hunter."

"That so? Lots of 'em 'round here, kid." She didn't seem at all disappointed that I wasn't going to hit on her. For some reason, that made me like her more than I did just from my Dad's obvious high esteem of her.

"I need a new partner. Used to hunt with my family. Now they´re… gone."

Something flickered behind her eyes before they returned to their neutral gaze. "Sorry to hear about that kid."

"Look, I don't expect you to just give me a number. So I'm gonna leave mine. If you know anybody who might be interested in partnering up, give it to 'em and ask 'em to give me a call. I got some serious shit comin' up that I can't handle on my own."

"How serious?"

I shrugged. "End of the freakin' world serious, ma'am."

She narrowed her eyes, her suspicion a lot more subtle than the Neanderthals that had been grimming me since I walked in here. Hunters. Bunch of drunken, paranoid freaks. Just like me. "What's your name, kid?"

"Dean."

"Just Dean?"

I snorted. I couldn't exactly tell her my real last name. "Wesson."

"Like the gun?"

I had to laugh at that. I was used to that line, made me feel better about the new name. "Yeah. Just like the gun."

My smile didn't last long because just then, a small blond girl walked in form the back. "Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Sam's comin' by tomorrow."

A dark look passed over Ellen's face. "Fine."

I sat staring at the girl… because she was very, very pregnant. And Ellen only had one kid. Jo. Jo, who was raped by my possessed kid brother Sam seven months ago. I rubbed my eyes. Why would she keep the baby after what happened to her? Not that I wanted her to get rid of it, but she was raped by a possessed man. Was she already pregnant, or did NotSam knock her up? If it did, God only knew what she was growing in her gut. And Sam was coming over? Just like that? _The fuck_?

"You alright, Dean?"

I tore my eyes away from Jo's swollen belly and looked up to see Ellen giving me a concerned look. "'M fine. Just… missin' my family is all." I finished my beer, wishing for something stronger. "Well, I'd best be on my way. Make sure you remember me if you meet someone who might want a partner."

Ellen nodded. "I'll do that."

I returned the nod. "Ma'am."

I walked out, deep in thought. Holy fuck, Jo was pregnant. I stayed around town for a couple days, trying to find a chance to talk to Jo alone. I saw Sammy from a distance a couple of times. Kid looked good. Jumpy, like he was wound a little too tight, but good. I finally got my chance when she went out to shop for baby clothes. Going into a Baby Depot was not a good idea 'cause nobody would buy that I just happened to be there, but I could 'accidentally' run into her after coming out of one of the other stores around. I went into Radio Shack, because I needed to make myself an EMF reader anyway. I was out long before she was, so I waited, trying not to look like some creepy ass stalker. When she finally came out, I was right by the door.

"Hey… aren't you Ellen Harville's daughter?"

"Oh, yeah." She squinted at me. "You're the hunter at the bar, right? The new guy?"

"Yeah. Here," I said holding out my hand for her bags, "Let me get those for you. Buyin' stuff for the kid, huh? Guess that means you're taken." I gave her my most charming smile and she blushed. It was nice to know I still had it. We began walking slowly towards her car.

"Not necessarily. Sam and me… we didn't exactly work out."

"Sam? Not Sam Winchester?"

"You know him?"

"Everybody knows the Winchesters. I was sorry to hear about what happened to Sam seven months ago. Hard for a man to get over a thing like that." I was fishing, looking for a reaction and got none. Zip. Zilch. You didn't just get raped and not react when someone mentions it in passing seven months later. Especially when they don't even acknowledge that it was something that happened to you. Jo just stood there and blinked at me, and I felt dread crawling up my spine, slow and cold as I watched her unlock the car.

She finally raised an eyebrow. "What happened to him seven months ago?"

I shrugged and put the bags in her back seat. "Bad hunt. Or bad luck. It's actually his story to tell, and if you don't already know it then it's not my place to tell you. Look, I gotta go." I paused. I felt like shit for just leaving like this without warning her, but what the hell was I gonna say? _You were knocked up by a demon and just can't remember for whatever reason, probably somethin' to do with the deal I made four months ago. But hey, Hellboy turned out okay, so it might not be all that bad._ Yeah. Right. "Take care of yourself, Jo. Call me if you start craving raw meat." And why the fuck did I just say that?

She frowned and blinked at me. "Raw meat…?"

"Nothin'. Just a pregnancy joke. Guess you had to grow up in my family to get it." Or watch _Rosemary's Baby_. "I'll see you around. Good luck with… everything."

I walked away not knowing what I should do. How could she forget about being _raped_? What the hell had happened while I was gone? I unlocked my car door and slide behind the wheel.

"The crossroads demon made them forget."

I squeaked like a freaking girl and nearly hit my head on the roof of the car. Castiel had appeared in the passenger's seat just as I was about to put the key in the ignition. "_Son of a bitch_! Will you please stop sneaking up on me like that!" I wasn't an easy guy to scare, but Castiel obviously had a knack for it.

He cocked his head at me again. And I really hated it when he looked at me like that. "I am sorry. It was not my intention to frighten you."

"You didn't frighten me, angel boy. You _startled_ me." He raised an eyebrow, because, yeah, he _had_ scared me. "You said the crossroad's bitch made them forget. Forget what?"

"Sam's possession. Sam and Jo think they met by chance while intoxicated and had sexual intercourse."

"My brother thinks he knocked her up during a drunken one night stand? Seriously? _My_ brother, who turns into a freaking emo Dr. Phil when he drinks?"

"Yes." So… no sense of humor either. Good to know.

"But that wasn't even part of the deal."

"You were not… _specific_ enough."

"So they can just _erase_ whatever they want once they get access? Unless you, I don't know, give them a play by play on what they can and can't do?"

"Yes."

"Well, shit, that's not fair!"

"You expect demons to be fair?" Now he was looking at me like I was a _brain damaged_ bug. And yeah, he kind of had a point there. Why the hell would I expect _anything _to be fair? Especially demons.

"But _why_? Why make everyone forget _that_?" Because there was always a why. Always a reason. And if you could figure out the reason, you could figure out what to do about it. Or so my old man always said.

"The demons wanted this child to be born. When you made your deal, Jo had recently learned she was pregnant. She was about to kill herself and the child along with her."

I shuddered. That didn't sound good at all. Anything demons wanted to happen was usually a seriously, _seriously_ bad thing. "So… what is the kid?"

"Something extremely dangerous. Something we may have to kill."

* * *

_A/N:_

_I hope this lived up to your expectations, __**greendaypumpkin**__!_

_Thank you __**lace and silk**__. I feel much better. Glad you enjoyed the last chapter._

_The angst, __**Crash_n_Burn**__? I must have left it in my other pants pocket. LOL. If you need more angst then I'm not sure how I can help you._

_Glad I can make you like Victor, __**rog457**__. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait just a little while longer for the reunion… I have a whole nine months to fill you in on re Dean. Not to mention explain how he got into his current mess, and how John ended up getting that phone call._

_Sorry that was confussing, __**kelmar2004**__. The hospital scene wasn't left open, I just didn't want to recap what I'd already told everyone in the previous chapter re John's failed quest to get Dean back. Sam was just filling Victor in. They left the hospital right afterwards, as is there MO – never stay in a hospital any longer than necessary._

_I saw so much John in Adam, __**ShortLILPunk**__, it gave me chills. Talk about nature over nurture. I'm so glad that you've been enjoying my little 'verse so much._

_-Angie_


	6. Chicks Dig Gritty Men

**Chicks Dig Gritty Men**

The thing about Hell is there's no night, even though it's always, _always_ dark. Dark and red, like everything's covered with a thick coat of blood. The end of a day was marked by the beginning of the next one. It was like you just blanked out and came back whole again, like someone hit some reset button somewhere. There's no actual sleep, no way to escape the pain. It was there and then it stopped just so it could start all over again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, decade after decade. Until it got to be monotonous. As creative as Alastair was, there were still only so many ways you could be skinned, or have the lining of your digestive system pulled out through your nose. Sometimes, when I'm up at night, I wonder if it wasn't the sheer boredom that finally broke me. The knowing that there would never be anything other than this, that every day would be like this forever unless and until I caved.

Don't get me wrong, the pain… it was indescribable, endless and constant. Pain so bad that I went from belligerent to begging within the first half hour like some punk ass bitch. And the only time I stopped begging? Was on the days when Alastair cut out my tongue. I'd been tortured before, but what that bastard could do… to call it torture would almost be like calling World War II a minor disagreement. So, it was hard for me to fall asleep at night, because I kept expecting the son of a bitch to burst in at any moment and drag me back to the rack and I wondered how long I'd be able to hold out a second time around.

Then there was the hell I was living right here. The memory of sitting in a car and watching my brother from a distance, every muscle in my body locked in place for fear that I'd run up to him like some goddamned fool. Sammy was a hunter and I didn't know if he'd seen my body. Either way, some strange guy coming up to him out of the blue like he knew him… that just couldn't end well. Especially if Sam had seen my body. And I kept remember the way Dad looked at me like a stranger, and I knew I could never just go up to him. I couldn't see that look in my kid brother's eyes too. But, God I wanted to. Wanted to see my family again. So I did the only thing I could do. I followed them. It turned out to be kind of rewarding because I was probably the only person alive who could tail John Winchester without him noticing. He'd taught me how. And that's how I met _her_.

* * *

First time I ever laid eyes on her, she was skulking around Bobby's property. Which, unless she was my unknown sister who had also sold her soul with the request that no one remembered her and the only way she could be close to her family was to stalk them, then… well, that just wasn't cool. I thought she was going to get torn apart by the dogs, but she brought steak. Damn mutts. That was the oldest trick in the book. She was obviously trying to figure out how to break in.

I snuck up behind her, not sure which was stronger, my curiosity or my anger. My fucking family was in there. And even if they weren't, Bobby was. He was close enough. "Somethin' I can help you with?"

She whirled around to face me, shock clear on her face for a split second before it went neutral. "Who the hell are you." Ohhh… I knew an educated English accent when I heard one. What the hell was a well-bred British thief doing in a junkyard in the Midwest? Unless she was after the only really valuable things Bobby had, which weren't common knowledge. Which meant she might be a demon. Swell. And here I was with not a drop of holy water on me. You'd think I'd get enough of being unprepared.

I cocked my head at her. Chick had balls, I'll give her that. If she wasn't a demon and couldn't throw my ass halfway across the yard without breaking a sweat, that is. "Who the hell are _you_?" And yeah. That didn't sound junior high _at all_.

"I asked you first."

"Dean Weston. Now it's your turn."

She blinked at me. "I'm just… from the… electric company."

"Right. Because they usually send people out during the witching hour."

She straightened her spine. "Well, what the bloody hell's your excuse?"

"Cristo."

She laughed. "I'm not a demon, you dimwit."

I glared at her. There was no call to start insulting people. "But you know about them. What are you?"

"I'm not a what, you bleeding idiot!"

"Okay. Fine. _Who_ are you?"She opened her mouth to speak, and I got the feeling that she lied as easy as she breathed. I cut her off. "The truth this time, princess."

She smirked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Or what?"

This chick was really getting on my nerves. I'd never been one to threaten humans… okay, _women_, but this one? She was rubbing me the wrong way on so many levels it was tough to pick out exactly what was pissing me off the most. "I know a thing or two that'll make you eager to talk."

And I swear, Bobby has the worst timing in the freaking world. The porch light turned on and the mystery woman and I were running in opposite directions. As much as I wanted to know who she was, I wanted to stay alive more. Bobby was fucking lethal with his shotgun. I was going to have to be more careful from now on. And I was going to have to find some way to figure out who that woman was, and if she was a threat to my family.

* * *

I can't figure out how Cass talked me into this a few months back. A twelve step program for rape survivors. I should have known something was up when he appeared in the middle of my hotel room about a month after dragging my worthless ass out of the pit with his invasive stare and complete disregard for my personal space, claiming he found something that could help me. I was definitely going to have to have another conversation with him about the whole purpose of doors.

Okay, I can admit – at least to myself – that talking to these people helps. Dealing with what happened in that alley a lifetime ago, what almost happened with Not Sam, and finally in Hell on my own with nothing but hunting and an occasional visit from some socially stunted indestructible dick claiming to be 'an angel of the Lord' who looked more like a fucking accountant in a rumpled overcoat than anything else sucked major ass. And Hell was a lot like being raped anyway. Repeatedly and violently. The physical torture was just a way to get in your head, in your _skin_, push you to a place where you'd do anything to make it stop. Even doing the same thing to someone else with not even an ounce of empathy (and wouldn't Sammy be impressed that I actually knew that word). It was all about control, and making sure you don't give a flying fuck about anyone but yourself. That's what becoming a demon meant. Being Hell's psychopathic bitch for all eternity. Sometimes I wasn't completely sure that I'd avoided that.

"Dean? Were'd you go, man?"

I blinked at Bryant, one of the guys in my group, and smirked. "Just to what my Dad used to call the deadly territory of introspection. So we still on to go to the range?"

He made a face. "I guess so. As long as you don't have to take off at the last minute for your mystery job again."

He'd been raped twice by his ex. Sadistic, obsessive son of a bitch kept finding him and trying to 'reclaim his territory.' "Course, you could just tell me where the bastard is. Guarantee he'll never lay a hand on you again."

He smirked. "You're a real tough guy, huh, Dean?"

I shrugged and looked away. "Apparently not tough enough to keep myself safe. But I think I can manage to scare off one lone asshole."

"Why do you always do that? Blame yourself for what happened to you? It wasn't your fault."

I snorted. "Now you sound like my old man."

"The way you talk about him… he sounds like a good father."

I closed my eyes, a sad smile on my face. What I wouldn't give to hear him call me son with that mixture of affection and irritation only he could pull off. Hell, I'd even take him being a jerk. Nobody could pull off jerk like John Winchester in a pissy mood, and I'd take anything I could get. Just to see him one more time as my father, not some guy who didn't know me from some bum on the street. To have him look at me like his first born son again. But that was gone now. Forever. I cleared my throat. "He was the best. Even when he was bein' an asshole."

"Was?"

"I… lost him about ten months ago."

"I'm sorry."

I missed my family… I missed Sammy and Dad so bad that sometimes it was like I had a freaking hole in my chest. It was the little things I missed. The press of an arm or knee. The solid presence of someone lying next to me, someone I knew would do whatever they had to do to keep me safe. A hand squeezing my shoulder or neck. It wasn't soft and emo and it for damn sure wasn't verbal. It was simply being _there_. Giving a fuck. No matter how many evil things I killed, or how many meetings I went to, or how much I drank myself numb so I could sleep, I missed that. "Yeah, well. Life's an evil rabid bitch. Then you die."

* * *

It took some doing, but I finally got a name to the mystery woman. Bela Talbot. Procurator of supernatural objects. Which obviously mean that she basically stole them from hunters and then sold them to the highest bidder. I'd never even realized that someone like that existed, but I guess it made a crazy kind of sense. Now all I had to do was find the bitch and figure out what she wanted from Bobby. Or Dad.

"Why are you seeking Bela Talbot?"

And I nearly jumped off the bed. Cass was right behind me, looking over my shoulder. "Fuck! How many times I gotta tell you to knock, or somethin'? And don't just appear two freaking inches away from me."

"Why would I knock when I don't require the use of a door? And I didn't appear two inches away from you. I appeared over there." He pointed at the far corner. "I walked over here."

Sometimes I swear the son of a bitch is playing with me. Nobody could be that clueless. "Then make some noise!"

He cocked his head at me and frowned. "Why are you seeking Bela Talbot?"

I sighed, giving up. For now. "She was casing out Bobby's place. Just want to know why."

"Perhaps it has something to do with her deal."

I felt a cold knot in my stomach. "Her deal? You mean… like, sold her soul to a crossroads demon type deal?"

"Close. She sold her soul to Lilith when she was a child. She was being abused."

I felt my eyes go wide. "Well that's… fucked up."

"She has been trying to find a way out of it for years. She may be useful."

"How?"

"She has a great deal of information, she is resourceful and you said you needed backup."

"You want me to partner up with a _thief_? Who steals from hunters? Cass… you ever been hit in the head?" He cocked his head at me again. I sighed.

* * *

Dad had always had his secrets. But Adam… finding out about that particular secret was like a knife in the gut. The worst part about it was that I understood it, when I stopped being a jealous bitch about it and really thought it through. He hadn't found out about Adam until late in his life, and the kid was isolated from Azazel and all the other shit that had come knocking at our doors. Nobody wanted him dead, nothing was trying to use him as revenge or leverage and he wasn't part of anyone's evil plans. Why the hell not keep it that way? At least one member of the family was relatively safe.

I sat in the dorm room next to Adam's, listening in to their conversation at the air duct, hoping that whoever stayed in the room wouldn't come home anytime soon. Cause this would be really hard to explain. Dad seemed conflicted about leaving Adam to finish out the term of his first year but he finally relented. It would only be another four months, but if anyone knew how much could happen in four months it was me. I decided to stick around for a few days, watch out for the kid. Figured it's what Dad would want. And it was a damn good thing I did.

It kind of felt like déjà vu, shadowing Adam at his campus. I'd done this when Sam was in college so many times I almost didn't even have to think about it. I'd been here for a week and decided this would be my last day, and then I'd try to track Dad and Sam down again. Don't know exactly what it was that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I sat in the car across the street from Adam's dorm room, but Dad had always told me to trust my instincts. That's why I'd followed the middle aged blonde woman up to Adam's dorm room. Why I'd stood outside his door at the risk of looking like a stalker or something. If it hadn't been for that, I wouldn't have heard the woman – Adam's mother – tell him that something had happened to his father, that he needed to come home as soon as possible. I wouldn't have followed them, my mind racing and palms sweating, to a graveyard in another town. I felt a flare of anger when we stopped there, because who the hell was she to bury my Dad? She may have been his piece on the side, but she wasn't _family_, damnit! I was so busy being scared and hurt and freaking pissed off that I was almost too slow to react when she hit Adam on the back of the head and some creepy looking guy seemed to come right out of the shadows. Shit. That wasn't Adam's mom. So much for safe. But at least the whole thing about Dad was just a trap.

I wasn't sure what these things were, but I figured a headshot should do it. And if not, at least it would buy me enough time to grab my new kid brother and get out of dodge. In theory. But theory was all I had right now and Adam wasn't dying on my fucking watch. He was my brother, whether I knew him or not, whether I could ever tell him or not.

The headshot seemed to work and so did bashing in the head till there was pretty much nothing left but a wet spot on the grass. I did a salt and burn to make sure there was nothing left to come back. Adam was disoriented and confused, but he came too enough to give me directions to his house. We found it deserted, with signs of a struggle in his mom's room. Fuck. I suddenly felt guilty for my earlier anger, although that damn picture of her and Dad sitting on the nightstand still kind of ticked me off. Still, nobody deserved to be dragged into the vents of their own home and murdered like that. Poor woman must have been terrified.

* * *

"So… she's…" Adam sat on his mother's bed, staring t the marks his mother clawed into the floor. I'd just climbed out of the vent (and, God, how I hated closed in spaces like that) where I'd found clumps of his mother's hair and way too much blood for anybody to lose and still live.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, kid." I hated this. I _hated_ this. Made me think of my own mother dying. Gutted and burning on the ceiling. Fucking Winchester curse strikes again.

"What was that thing?"

I shrugged. "I'd say a shapeshifter, but they can only be killed with silver. I thought demons, but there was no smoke. Ghouls maybe. They take on the shape of the people they… of their victim. But they don't go after the living."

Adam cocked his head at me. "How can you victimize someone who's already dead?"

And damn if I couldn't see my father in that expression. He wasn't letting this go, but I felt like I had to try anyway. "Look, kid. You don't wanna know all this. What you wanna do is go back to school and try to make you mother proud. Find a pretty girl, get laid."

"My mother is _dead_," he bit out through clinched teeth, "and you will tell me how she died, dammit!" He didn't have Dad's eyes, but that fire in them? That was one hundred percent John Winchester.

"They freaking ate her, okay?"

"_What_?"

All the wind went out of the kid's sails and I cursed myself for just blurting it out like that. I sighed and softened my tone, wishing Sammy was here. "Ghouls eat dead bodies and they take on the appearance of whoever they eat. You heard those urban legends of people seeing a dead family member? A lot of times, that's a ghoul. You hear about them attacking people occasionally, which is why we hunt them. But I never seen any eat the living before."

"Those things _ate_ my…" The kid barely made it to the bathroom in time. Yeah. Those were kind of my sentiments too. I ran my fingers through my hair and considered just disappearing. Fuck, I was bad at this.

* * *

I know that I should probably feel a little creeped out that I needed this, needed someone to take care of, another little brother. But I didn't allow myself to think about it too much. What I did feel, though, no matter how hard I tried to distract myself with the freak show of the week, was a little guilty about manipulating Adam into not contacting Dad… but then Dad would flip if some unknown hunter was dragging one of his sons around like some sort of side kick. Dad was a little possessive/overprotective like that and there was no way that the John Winchester I knew would trust anyone to teach Adam to hunt but himself. Maybe he would have trusted me if he remembered who the fuck I was, but he didn't so… right now? The only family I have left is a brother I never even knew existed until a few weeks ago and I was feeling a little selfish. Even if the kid would never know I was his brother since no one freaking remembered me because of the deal I'd made when I sold my soul for my _other_ little brother. And I couldn't just walk around saying, 'hey, I know you don't remember me. I'm Dean Winchester, John Winchester's forgotten son. See, I made this deal at a crossroads one night…' Okay, so this was way more fucked up than my usual standard-issue fucked up. Which was saying one hell of a lot.

Right now we're in a graveyard and I'm watching Adam dig up a grave. He's dirty and sweaty and reminding me so much of Sammy, only _not_, that I'm trying to figure out if I can call him 'Addy' without it sounding totally cheesy… and concluding that not even I can pull that off. But it doesn't matter. I'm still teasing him, calling him a girl and a princess. He acts like he doesn't like it, but I can tell he does. Poor kid grew up an only child, so he never had a big brother to look out for him or to tease him mercilessly. He calls me a jerk and an asswipe and it almost feels right. The better I am at remembering that this kid isn't Sam, and he deserves a big brother just as much as my other little brother, the more right it feels. So I remind myself as often as I can. He's shorter than me (at least one of my little brothers got that right) and his hair would probably get the John Winchester seal of approval. He looks more like Dad than even Sammy and he doesn't seem to need everyone to like him. Every time I'm convinced the kid's out of his depth and Dad will hunt me down and skin me alive for getting him killed, he'll end up in the right place, doing the right thing, looking in the right direction. So he has the Winchester instincts. He's reckless when he thinks it's for a good cause. And he can be a stubborn, pigheaded jackass when he gets into a mood. So yeah… he fits right into the family. Being around him is like having some weird combination of Sam and Dad, highlighting every way that they're the same and different all at once.

"Dean, why do I have to do all the digging?"

"Cause you're the rookie, princess."

He paused, leaning on the shovel to wipe at the dirt on his forehead, only serving to smear it around rather than actually clean it off. He squinted up at me. "You're a jackass. You do know that, right?"

I shrugged. "And I'm perfectly okay with that. You're wastin' time, sweetheart. Trust me, we don't wanna still be here with the sun comes up."

H e huffed and went back to digging. We torched the corpse. The ghost didn't turn up this time, so we were going have to stick around a day or two to make sure we got the right one.

I took the shovel from him and began filling in the grave. Kid was clearly tired and out of breath. He was building muscle, but he was still a little on the scrawny side. I tried not to think about the fact that he should be back in school right now, dissecting cadavers, binge drinking and hitting on hot nursing students. Sure, he was nearly a midnight snack for the ghouls that had killed his mom and he'd begged me to take him with me. But I should have said no, should have left him in his safe little bubble. Safe didn't really exist, though. Adam knew that now and he was still so raw over losing him mother – no way he could have just gone back to 'normal' after that. And I never would have forgiven myself if the next monster actually got to the kid. I'm pretty sure losing a son would kill Dad. That's one of the biggest reasons why making him forget me was part of my deal. "I'm starvin'. I could go for some pie."

He snorted. "You could always go for some pie. You're like a… a _pie addict_ or somethin', man. Maybe I should find you a twelve step program."

I rolled my eyes. Kid had Dad's sense of humor, only with more sarcasm. Cause that's really all Dad needed… more sarcasm. "One's enough, thanks."

"You're in a twelve step program?" I shrugged. "For what?"

I paused and looked up at him. Adam was an open book, his feelings right there for the world to see. I was going to have to do something about that eventually because the kid couldn't just go around broadcasting every thought and emotion he had. But I could tell that he was genuinely concerned. About me. I looked away because it was too much like looking into Dad's eyes even if they weren't the same color. I wondered why all three of us had lighter eyes than Dad. Maybe I should have paid closer attention in biology when they were talking about genetics. "I'll tell you later. I'm too tired for any caring sharing shit tonight."

"Yeah. Okay." And unlike Sammy, he meant it. No trying to drag it out of me, no puppy dog eyes. But it was clear that he also took me at my word and was expecting me to spill at some point.

"We can go to that diner from yesterday. That cute little waitress dug you, man."

"You think?"

"Definitely."

"But, dude, we need to shower and change first." I smiled at the 'dude', knowing he'd picked that up from me.

"Why?"

He gave me a completely blank look, like he was a little stunned and not sure what to do with my question. "We're covered in dirt and smell like smoke."

"Chick's dig gritty men."

He blinked at me. "I think you landed on your head harder than we thought yesterday." Yeah. Kid definitely had Dad's sense of humor.

I sighed as I shoveled the dirt back into the hole. "You have so much to _learn_."

* * *

_A/N:_

_Here you go ShortLILPunk… the explanation for how Dean ends up with Adam. Hope you enjoyed it. And I'm glad you've been enjoying the ride up to this point._

_Thank you Naed!_

_Yes, lace and silk, Cas is so much different then he started out. Glad you enjoyed seeing a little of the old Cas._

_Yeah, Crash_n_Burn, I don't see a conversation like that going well between Sam and Dean. I just… don't. LOL._

_Glad you're enjoying it rog457. Dean's got a lot on his plate, and a lot's happened in a year. Dean would take it very hard for his family to look at him and treat him like a stranger. That's the whole reason he's resorted to stalking instead of trying to find a way to actually be in their lives._

_Here you go Danaa! Thanks!_

_Hey, LuckyMe1. I hope you didn't feel put off by my PM. I was just trying to understand your criticism better. I'm just not sure how having a chapter from Hendrickson's POV isn't in the same style as Lost since that's where the Hendrickson POVs started. So, when you get a chance, drop me a line. Also, if anyone else reads this and feels the same way, let me know why… Let me know what I'm failing to understand._

_I'm so glad you enjoyed Lost and now Tabula Rasa. I hope you continue to do so! And thank you so much for the kind words in your review of Lost._

_LOL, Kminxus! If you pay my bills and keep me in shoes (and I like expensive ones) then you got a deal. ;-) But, seriously, thank you so much!_

_-Angie_


	7. The 'Wolves Are Circlin'

**The 'Wolves Are Circlin'**

"So, let me get this straight," I bit out, not believing my ears. Bela had followed me – _followed me _– to and from my meeting, and after about ten minutes of annoying the hell out of me dropped her bombshell. "You want to steal the Colt, not to gank the bitch but to trade for your soul? Jesus!" I was so glad I'd sent Adam off for a little R&R. That way, he won't get the idea that it's okay to kill humans.

"Men! Your solution is always _ganking_ someone. Have you no finesse?" I laughed. "_What is do damn funny_?"

"Never, ever, say gank in any form again, sweetheart. It don't suit you."

She sighed and pursed her lips at me. "I don't even know why the hell I'm wasting my time with you."

I sighed, remember why I was putting up with this shit and why I wasn't going to kill her. Probably. "Because you're scared and your time's running out."

"And am I supposed to believe you care?"

"You should. Because I do. When I don't want to strangle you myself."

"Why?"

"I sold my soul too. To save my brother's life."

"And you lost him anyway? That... that's horrible. I made my deal to save myself. The worst part of it is… the worst bloody part is that I had no idea what I was doing. And it doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that I was young and scared out of my mind. Doesn't matter that I had no clue what I was trading away. I've spent six years trying to get out of this deal. And, like you said, time is running out. The Colt is my last bloody card and I can't afford to bulox it up."

"The safest course of action is to kill the bitch. Think about this… once she knows you have the Colt, she can just take it from you if she wants it bad enough. Why would she make a deal?"

"How long do you have, Dean?"

Oh, there's a question I had no plausible answer to. I shrugged. "I made my deal a year ago."

"I have two months, Dean. Two months. You won't know what that's like for another nine years. I lay awake at night hearing the hounds now. Like they can't wait to tear me apart. I haven't slept in so long…"

She started shaking and before I knew I was going to do it, I was holding her. Trying to sooth her the way my father had soothed me whenever I got like this. She was terrified and I was even more terrified for her. "That gives us two months to get the colt and kill Lilith."

* * *

Which is how I ended up breaking into Bobby's house and stealing the Colt. I knew the combination to his safe, so I didn't even have to crack it. I felt shitty for doing it, but I couldn't let Bela go to Hell. She was annoying, superior and probably had done a dozen things to deserve it since she'd sold her soul. But I'd been there and I couldn't just sit by and watch her go because she'd made a stupid deal when she was a kid who had no clue what she was doing. If she went, then it should be because she'd earned her seat in the hand basket. Not because some demon tricked a scared kid whose only crime was having a sick fuck for a father. Dad would understand if I could explain it to him, but I couldn't. And that's why I felt like shit. If he needed this damn thing, it wouldn't be here when he came looking for it.

"You remember the date of your deal?"

Bela looked up at me from where she sat, reverently running her long elegant fingers along the surface of the Colt. And, no I did not just think of her fingers as long and elegant. I closed my eyes and rubbed them with my fingers. I must really need to get laid. "What? Why?"

"We need to backtrack, try to figure out what omens manifest around her. Then we can use that to figure out where the bitch is. Then we kill her and you can spend the next fifty years trying to figure out how to thank me."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Nah. I just specialize in desperate."

"That so?"

"You're lookin' at the king of Hail Marys. In fact, I'm pretty sure that you're gonna try to steal the Colt from me and make your own play."

She stiffened a little. "And why's that?"

"Because you don't trust me. You've spent your entire life not trusting anyone but yourself. Hell, if our situations were reversed it's what I would do. I mean, trust someone I don't know with my life? With keeping me out of Hell? I'd actually understand if you did. But it won't save your life."

"And you will?" Her lip was trembling.

"I'm the only thing that might. I can't guarantee you it's gonna work. But it's not like you got a whole lot of moves left. And I can teach you how to stay safe until Lilith's dead."

"Stay locked up in a little room with hellhounds howling outside the door? No, that's not me."

I nodded and somehow that made me like her more. She had grit. "Yeah. I figured. But as a temporary measure, in case I need a few more days? It might be necessary."

"You'd be risking your life. And if you died…"

"I know." I went to the bathroom and when I came back, Bela was gone. The Colt was still there, sitting on the table next to a note with a date. I smiled to myself. It was a start.

* * *

"About three years ago I was raped."

Adam stared at me, clearly unsure of how to react. Maybe I shouldn't have said it so bluntly, but none of Dad's lesson's included how to tactfully tell your kid brother you were sexually assaulted. Plus I was as close to drunk as I could get without slurring. The more I had to drink, the blunter I got. Usually I was a fun drunk, but today I was morose. Must be channeling Sammy. Or it could be because Bela had less than a month left and I still hadn't been able to locate Lilith. "Man… I… I'm sorry."

I shrugged and looked away. "It was painful and bloody and utterly fucked. About a year ago… some even worse shit happened and… I lost my family. So now I go to a survivor's group and I guess I'm learnin' how to deal. I been… I been to Hell and back over the past few years. And I got nothin' left anymore but the fight to keep me goin'. Until you. It's like havin' a brother, you know? Somebody to look out for. I didn't know how much I needed that until I didn't have it anymore."

"Yeah, but who looks out for you?"

Kid never reminded me more of Sammy than he did at that moment. I stared at him for a few seconds. Because that used to be Dad's job. Now Dad didn't even know who the fuck I was, would never know who the fuck I was. Not ever. I tried to laugh, but it came out sounding broken and strangled and I hated myself for sounding like that but I couldn't help it. "According to Cas, God's got that job now." That was cold comfort, because I didn't want a God who didn't give a shit about me until he needed a favor. I wanted my father.

"I'm sorry Dean. You know you can count on me, right? I mean, I'm not that good at this hunting shit yet, but I got your back. You know that, right? Cause… you're like the big brother I never had. Sam's cool and all, but… the guy never saved my ass from things that keep trying to eat me or gut me or impale me on things, you know? Doesn't make sure I eat or make me check in or that I got spending money."

I wanted to say something, something funny to break the heavy mood, but my throat was closed up and I felt like I'd shatter if I moved a muscle. Just break apart along the million or so cracks running through my soul. I closed my eyes and willed myself to stay still. I couldn't afford to break. Dad wasn't here to put me back together and I was pretty sure Adam didn't know how even if I was willing to let him try. So the key was to not break. Just keep myself together with hunting, whiskey and taking care of Adam. After a few seconds of silence that seemed to go on for days, I finally opened my eyes and nodded. "Yeah. I know. Get to bed, kid. We're headin' out early."

* * *

"I can't find her. I'm so sorry." I sat on the couch in Bela's suit. Had to say, this was a hell of a lot better than the hotels Winchesters usually frequented.

"It's not… it's not your fault. I know you tried." She was curled up against the arm of the couch, her feet underneath her, looking so small and helpless.

I slid the Colt across the coffee table to her and she clutched it with shaking fingers. She had days left… fucking _days_. She looked like hell and I could tell that she hadn't slept in a very long time. "You can try your play."

"Thought you said it wouldn't work."

"I don't think it will. But it's a Hail Mary, right?"

She leaned forward and picked it up, her free hand over her mouth, and nodded as tears slipped from her eyes. I put my hand over the one holding the Colt and squeezed gently. "Tell me what happened to you. Why you go to those meetings."

I told her everything, staring down at the empty space between us while I did. I even told her about NotSam. I waited silently for her to react once I'd finished. I was better at telling people, not that I was ever going to make it a habit to just walk up to strangers and start spilling my guts, but it didn't leave me feeling empty and hollowed out anymore. Until now. I just didn't understand why I cared so much about what this woman thought of me.

"I'm sorry that happened to you." I looked up and met her tear filled eyes. I wasn't sure if she was crying for me or herself or both. Wasn't even sure if it mattered much. "You're a good man, Dean. You deserved better than that."

"Yeah, well," I said with a shrug, trying to avoid crying myself. "That's life, right?"

"Yeah. But you got past it. You're still here, still swinging. That's all that counts, right?"

I shrugged. "I hope so. And don't think that just because I gave you the gun that I'm giving up on you. 'Cause I haven't." I couldn't.

She leaned forward and kissed me. I pulled away, shocked. Her eyes widened at my reaction. "I'm sorry."

"No. It's just… I haven't… not since I was…"

"If you don't want to, I'd understand."

And how the hell had we started discussing comfort sex? "I do," I said, sounding surprised even to myself. Because, I'd just been considering strangling her again a couple weeks ago and I hadn't so much as _kissed _a woman in three years. "I just want you to know it's been a _really_ long time for me. And I can't guarantee that I won't freak or something."

She let out a nervous little laugh. "Okay."

We kissed again, deeper this time.

* * *

I woke up to Bela slipping out of bed. "I've got to put out feelers, see if Lilith is interested in a deal."

"Let me know. If she's willing to met with you, maybe we can still go with Plan A if we have enough warning."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll… I'll come back in a couple of days. When it's almost over." She was getting dressed like she was trying to break some sort of record.

"Bela-"

"Don't, okay? I know you're just trying to give me hope and I adore you for it, but I… I have to be a realist about this." She leaned over and kissed me.

"Okay. I'm still not giving up. I'm taking Adam out for training this afternoon, so I'll be out in the middle of nowhere. If you can't get me on my phone, leave a message. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." She opened the door and stood there looking back at me. She looked so damn scared, and I can't say that I blamed her. "I slept last night. First time in so bloody long." Then she was gone.

* * *

"So how's the replacement brother workin' out for you, Dean-o?"

"You… what the fuck are you doin' here?"

"Trying to figure out what's so special about you. I think I was supposed to believe that it was just some sort of last ditch effort to save the seal, but I'm starting to suspect there might be a lot more to it than that. What, with all the effort they were puttin' into hidin' you from me and all."

"Seal? What seal?"

"Oh… they didn't tell you? You broke the first one boy. The minute you got off that rack and started carvin' up souls for Alistair like a good little boy… that was the first step to raising Lucifer. We're at the end of times, Dean, and you got the ball a-rollin'. That's why Castiel came for yah. But he was about ten years too late. Angels. Bunch of incompetent assholes, you ask me. I created a plan that spanned decades, _generations_. Hell, it was such a good plan, I could just drop out for years at a time, see the world, destroy people just for the hell of it and come back to find everything chug chugging right along just like clockwork. And what were _they_ doin'? Standin' around holdin' their dicks. And that's just the ones that can find 'em without a flashlight, a road map and GPS. And when they finally get involved? An entire _decade_ too late." I shook my head in mock sadness. "It almost makes me feel bad. Like taking candy from a bunch of mentally challenged babies."

"You're lyin'!"

"I don't have to. The truth is so much more painful. Maybe it's a good thing your Daddy doesn't know you from a hole in the ground. Think of how ashamed he'd be of his good little soldier if he knew you ended the world. All that time he was worried about Sam when it was really you."

Dean stared at me, his eyes filled with hatred and self-loathing. Then he cocked his head, his expression becoming calculating as he looked around the empyt white room we were in. Kid did that a lot. Could be in the middle of the most delicious torment and suddenly his brain would switch on and he'd start putting things together. The more time I spent studying this boy, the more I realized just how much he'd been underestimated. By me, by everybody. That kind of underestimation could ruin plans. Even mine. "You can't touch me, can you?"

I blinked at him. "Whatever would give you that impression?"

"You're just standin' there, flappin' your gums. If you thought I was a threat and you could kill me, you would have. So tell me, is it the angels? Or did Dad do that ritual again? Cause, he might not remember me, but I'm still his goddamn son. Right?"

"You know, my girl got out when we opened up the Hell's Gate. You remember her, doncha? I believe you called her NotSam. I could send her on by and see if Adam can succeed where his brother failed. How long has it been since anybody's tapped that, Dean?"

"You send that bitch anywhere near Adam, and I swear…"

I chuckled. So predictable. He was more worried about Adam than himself. "Know what I think, Dean-o? I think you protest too much. I think the idea of a little rough handling after your time on the rack gets your engine all revved up."

"I think you need killin' and I'm just the sonovabitch to do it."

I laughed, finally tiring of my little game. Time for a new one. "Sorry, kid. You're old man already beat you to it."

"He did? He figured out how to kill a demon? Then how…?"

"This place is called limbo. Sort of like a waiting room for the nearly departed. I don't think I'm gettin' any further, though. Lots of demons and angels roamin' around this joint and gettin' more crowded by the day so I figure _this_ is what happens to a soul when it dies… just gets stuck here. I mean, a soul _is_ energy and energy can't be destroyed, just _converted_. I just have to consol myself with emotionally torturing any humans that happen across my little piece of nothingness. Didn't expect to see _you_, though. You're about to find out if you really escaped the pull of Hell forever. You're dyin' Dean-o. Out there in the middle of nowhere, nothin' between you and dead again but a wet behind the ears kid and the 'wolves are circlin' boy."

"Adam." His eyes widened as he remembered the predicament he was in just before ending up here.

"And I'm sure those 'wolves can smell your blood by now. Drawing them to the both of you like a magnet. Man, you gotta be the world's _worst_ big bro. You just got another little brother killed. Sad really. Think Daddy'll actually seal a deal this time? Doubt Sammy'll figure out what he's up to, or try to stop him even if he does. Sam never understood John the way you did. Never appreciated him as much."

"Oh, God."

"Little late for prayin', dontcha think? Like that Jackass ever gave a shit about you anyway."

Dean glared at me. "Say what you will about me, but you're already _dead_, you stupid bastard. You lose."

"Do I? Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you. My plan is still very much alive and kickin'."

"Every wonder why?"

"What?"

"If somethin's too good to be true, it usually is."

I blinked at him, because truthfully I'd thought of that before. Things just kept falling into my lap. I know I'm good at what I do, but sometimes it felt a little… _too_ convenient. I huffed out a breath. "I'm just killin' time 'till Papa springs me. Then I'm gonna finish off everyone you ever knew. Except Daddy Dearest. Gonna leave him broken and alone with a gun in his mouth. You know what happens to suicides, right Dean-o?"

Something akin to fear was back in his eyes. "He can do that? Bring you back?"

"Oh yeah. Takes hella juice though. Won't be able to do it 'till he gets sprung and takes his true vessel. And you won't believe who _that_ is." I laughed at the thought… too bad Dean wasn't going to live to see it.

* * *

"Dad!"

"Adam? Are you… are you okay?"

"No… I mean, yeah… it's… Dad there's somethin' you need to know. But you have to promise not to yell. You can yell at me later, but right now, you have to listen."

"Adam, explain yourself right the fuck _now_!"

I sighed. So much for Dad not yelling. "Three months ago, I was almost killed. It was ghouls. They said you killed their father, and they were after revenge. This guy saved me, said he was a hunter. You should have seen him, Dad! He didn't have anything to cut their heads off with, but he blew the brains out of one, and basically beat them out of the other with the butt of his rifle. I asked him to take me with him, teach me the ropes. He didn't want to, said you'd skin him alive if anything happened to me."

"Sounds like he knew what the hell he was talkin' about."

"I talked him into it anyway, as long as you didn't find out. But something happened-"

"Are you hurt? Did that stupid son of a bitch get you hurt?" Dad sounded pissed, his voice a deep, rumbling growl that sent shivers through me. No wonder Dean was scared of him.

"No… it's not me. He… fuck, Dad. It was my fault. It was coming after me and I wasn't fast enough and all of a sudden he was right there in front of me. I killed it, though. I did. But he… Dad you gotta come. I managed to get him to a nearby cabin, but he's too heavy for me to get him to the car, and I don't have what I need to help him. He's bad. Has a fever. Keeps babbling crazy shit. He needs more water, and antibiotics. Probably needs an IV."

"What's this son of a bitch's name?"

"Dean. Dean Wesson." There was dead silence on the other end for a second and I was terrified that the line had gone dead. "Dad?"

"'M here… this guy 'bout six feet of solid muscle with short dark blond hair and green eyes?"

"Yeah."

"Shit! Where are you, son?" Dad was suddenly calm, and I was thankful that someone was, because I was an inch away from full on panic mode.

"I'm just outside of Tulsa. Hold on, let me get the coordinates…" I found the notes that Dean'd made me take, and rattled then off to my father.

"I'm about one, one and a half hours away from there. Sit tight. Make a salt circle, sit with your back to somethin' solid facin' the door and whatever the fuck'll kill the bastards you're after in your hand. Read me?"

"Yes sir."

"What is it, boy? What's out there?"

"Werewolves." I heard a muttered curse over the phone line. "He said the tracks were made by at least three of them and that he never saw them hunt in a pack, said we needed help. We were leavin' when we got blindsided by one."

"Son, stay calm. Stay alert. Sam and I are on the way."

_

* * *

_

A/N: Just in case you read through that and got lost... I chanced POV three times. The majority was Dean, then Azazel (cause I miss the evil bastard) and finally Adam. And what the heck is wrong with this site? Keeps screwing up my formating.

_Thanks, **ShortLILPunk**! I 'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapter. Hope you like this one too._

_I'm glad you enjoyed Dean pairing up with his other little brother, **Haylia Jones**. Hoped you liked both Adam and Bela even more here. Dean thinking of Rosemary's Baby at that moment just seemed so… Dean._

_Glad you liked it, **Dean'sCastiel**._

_Happy to hear that you enjoyed my little additions and alterations, **rog457**. There's much more to come and the reunion happens next chapter. _

_Angie_


	8. The Winchester Way

**The Winchester Way**

The more I thought about it, the more it actually made a strange kind of sense. First time that I'd ever heard of that werewolves hunted in a pack, and my boy was smack dab in the middle of it. I snorted and shook my head. Dean always could find trouble. It was like he was a magnet for it. The good thing had always been that usually, he could handle it. But the last three years had been… hell for my boy. Both figuratively and literally. I felt bile in the back of my mouth, sharp and bitter. The rape and Sam's possession had been bad enough, but what had forty years in Hell done to my son? Thirty years of torture. And in some ways, for Dean the ten years spent as a torturerf had to be even worse. Dean was a protector. Hurting people had to have scarred him. Hell, when he'd died he was just starting to feel the emotional blowback from killing his rapists. What would it do to him to realize that he'd tortured people that had done nothing to him or his family? Sammy wasn't the only Winchester with a guilt complex.

I was stuck between hope and fear. Hope that I was getting my boy back and fear that it was a trick because our luck didn't work like that. We didn't get back things that we lost. Not without consequences. The dead weren't meant to come back and when they did the price was usually painfully high. I'd been brought back and the price was Mary's life and my son's innocence. Sam had been brought back and the price was Dean's soul. If this wasn't a shifter, or some hunter who just happened to have one of Dean's favorite aliases as a real name and bore a passing resemblance to him, what was the price of getting my boy back? I glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure that Victor was staying right behind me as I raced to the coordinates that Adam had given me and prayed that if there was a price, I'd be the only one who had to pay it. It would be worth it.

My brain kept going over things as I drove. A few questions kept popping up no matter how hard I tried to push them back until I could see my boy face to face and talk to him. Why hadn't Dean come to me, to _us_? How had he figured out about Adam? Had he known all along? I turned the questions over and over in my mind. Dean was a good son, a good soldier, but he'd never have let the whole Adam thing slide. Especially as upset as he'd still been over Sammy leaving. He would have been angry and hurt when he found out because… really, who the hell wouldn't be? The longer I kept Adam a secret, the worse I knew the fallout would be when it was finally safe to tell Dean about him. I knew Dean would eventually understand, but his initial reaction would have been anything but understanding. Sam may have believed that Dean never argued, never pushed back, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Dean just had a very different way of doing it. Where Sam was always right there in my face, all bluster and self righteous indignation, Dean usually preferred to do it in private, sneaking up on me like some sort of god damned enemy ambush hidden in the weeds.

Like the last day I'd seen him, before Victor and Cold Oak. He'd mounted one of his one-man attacks almost the minute Sam was out of the room to get me to tell him what my wish had been while I was being held by that damn djinn. I could feel myself losing the battle to keep my hope in check. I missed my boy so damn much, missed his sense of humor, missed his horrible table manners, missed his smile and the way he smirked and swaggered when he was feeling his oats. Missed the way he could pick up the hottest women I'd ever seen with the cheesiest pick up lines I'd ever heard. Missed the sound of his voice. Missed the vulnerability underneath it all.

I couldn't help filling in motives and rationalizations for what little I knew of my boy's actions over the past few months based on how I knew Dean's mind worked. I was there when he died, held him in my arms as he took his last breaths. He had to be afraid that if I saw him again after that and didn't remember he was my son there'd be trouble. But he'd want to be close to us, so he'd tail us. The way we'd trailed Sam when he was at Stanford, like fucking stalkers hoping to catch a glimpse of an ex who we couldn't let go of. We'd had good reason, to keep him safe, but it still felt pretty pathetic to follow him around like that. Knowing he didn't want us there. I wondered if that's how Dean had felt, following us from a distance, being careful to stay out of sight, feeling like he was on the outside of his own family peeking in. Hungry for every single glimpse he could catch and feeling like a sad sack for it. And he'd been following us a few months back when we went to see Adam, when I'd taken Sam to met his brother. Trying to fill the hole that Dean had left in our lives. The boy must have seen it was worse than a betrayal. He had to have seen is as being replaced. But still he'd stayed behind, watching over Adam, taking up the job I'd neglected. Always taking up the slack, even when he had no hope of my approval or acknowledgement. Because he was Dean. Because he was a good man and a good brother.

So Dean had saved Adam, and kept him safe ever since. Just like he'd kept Sam safe before. And, damn it, I needed to get to my boys. I couldn't lose Adam, and losing Dean again would just fucking end me. Why the hell would Dean take Adam to hunt a werewolf in the first place? He couldn't have thought the boy was ready. Nobody had that much natural talent. I called Bobby on a hunch and gave him the rundown, asking him to look into it. He called back when we were about fifteen minutes out. Turned out two hunters had killed a 'wolf here last month. So Dean had logically thought the territory was 'wolf free. Or, if there was a 'wolf, it was newly turned by the old one and would be easy enough to spot and kill before it could do any damage. 'Wolves are notoriously territorial. If a 'wolf encroached on another's territory, it was usually by mistake or to kill it and take over. There was no coexisting. Or at least there never had been before. Dean must have brought Adam here to teach him advanced tracking. How to pick up a cold trail. Which meant that Adam had shown a talent for it. I couldn't help the flash of pride I felt at that.

But Dean had gotten here and found fresh tracks, at least three sets all in one spot. Dean had tried to get them out, but threw himself in front of his brother when one of the remaining 'wolves tried to attack him during their egress. And Adam had managed to put the damn thing down before it killed Dean, and then drag his injured big brother to shelter. Both my sons had done well under the circumstances, looking out for each other and keeping their shit together enough to get to shelter.

We were about ten minutes out now, but that didn't mean much. Because once we found the spot where Dean had left the car, we'd have to find the boys on foot. In a wooded area sheltering at least two werewolves. One or both of them might be gone by the time… I shut down that thought, couldn't let myself go there. Instead, I forced myself to think about this like any other hunt. Strategy and ordinance. I mentally catalogued how much silver I had, wondered how much Sam and Victor still had of what I'd given them. Should be all of it since they hadn't needed any to put Doc Benton down for good.

I finally caught sight of the classic GTO that Adam said they were using. The body was for shit, but I would bet my last dollar that everything under the hood was in perfect working order and I could see where Dean was beginning to work on the body too. I heard Victor sliding to a halt in the spot beside me as I got out and went to the back of my truck. Sam was next to me next to me less than a minute later, already sliding a clip of silver ammo into his Desert Eagle. I handed him the big first aid kit filled with all the goodies we'd picked up when Victor was in the hospital. It was well stocked with all kinds of heavy duty shit, including saline IVs, morphine and broad spectrum antibiotics.

Sam took it without complaint. "Why's he with Adam?"

"Must've followed us when we went to see him. Figured out who Adam was and stuck around. Damn good thing too."

"But why _Adam_? Why didn't he come see us?"

"He was, in the only way he knew how." It was hard to explain to Sam, who'd never been there. On the outside looking in, desperately wanting something he couldn't have.

"What's that mean?"

"Means we'll discuss this later. When you don't got two brothers out there somewhere bein' hunted by 'wolves, one of 'em unconscious and the other green as a blade of new grass."

We followed Dean and Adam's trail. Dean wasn't trying to hide his tracks and Adam likely didn't know how yet, so thankfully it was quick going as we wound our way deeper into the tree cover. I could see the faint trail that Dean was following, see where he let Adam take the lead, see where the younger boy had moments of doubt and indecision when he wasn't sure if he'd lost the trail. I was keeping an ear out for snapping twigs, any tell tale sign that the 'wolves were hunting us, but mostly I was relying on Sam and Victor for that.

In the movies, they always make the werewolves loud and obvious, crashing through undergrowth like steamrollers. Really, they were the perfect hunters. Stealthy and silent until they were ready to make the kill. It was pretty much impossible to sneak up on one because they could smell you before they could hear you, and hear your heart beating before you got within a hundred yards. Stronger and faster than humans with just as much intelligence. Jaws that were strong enough to snap a grown man's spine and impervious to anything except silver straight through the heart. Not even vampires were as much trouble to hunt and get rid of because at least they were vulnerable in the day time. It was almost impossible to figure who the human was that the 'wolf was hiding behind and most hunters valued human life too much to take a chance on being wrong. Only thing harder to hunt was a demon. I'd be easy pickings if I were out here alone trying to track my sons.

Once I found the spot where they were ambushed, complete with fresh 'wolf tracks and a still cooling 'wolf carcass, I realized that my fears about it taking a while to locate my boys were unfounded. The faint outline of the cabin could be made out when I looked in the direction of the clear tracks made when Adam had dragged Dean towards it. There was blood on the ground and the 'wolf, smeared on foliage. Some was clearly the 'wolf's. Some was clearly not.

"Victor? Light that bastard up."

Victor pulled out the lighter fluid and matches quickly and Sam snorted. Victor raised an eyebrow at my youngest son. "What?"

"Smoky the Bear will be appalled," the boy snarked and I snorted.

"You know this'll draw them to us, John," Victor noted as he quickly doused the 'wolf with the fluid and struck a match.

"And away from my brothers, right Dad?" The werewolf went up like kindling and we were on the move again.

I spared Sam a smile of approval, glad that for once he'd figured out what I was about without the prerequisite twenty questions. "Exactly," I said, hoping that the bastards could hear me. "Not sure if the smell of roasting werewolf flesh will trump blood, but at least they'll know someone's here. Someone that means them harm. They're still partially human, still able to use logic. Dean and Adam might not appear so appealing with us breathin' down their necks too. Eye's sharp, boys."

We'd been walking for nearly twenty five minutes and it had been over an hour since I'd spoken to Adam. Since he'd told me his battery was almost gone and he couldn't find Dean's phone, so he was going to shut it down and only turn it back on if he absolutely needed to call me. I didn't have the heart to tell him that if he needed me that bad and I wasn't already there, there'd be no time for the phone to power up. I put that away, giving all my attention to listening and feeling everything around me that I could now that I didn't need to pay as much attention to tracking.

The sight of the cabin's front door hanging loose on one hinge, claw marks gouged deep into the wood and the frame busted to hell froze my heart and I had to force myself to keep moving, gun heavy in my hands. I moved quickly and cautiously, not bothering with quiet since my heart was beating so hard against my ribs that I was sure any 'wolf within a thirty mile radius could hear it loud and clear. The inside of the cabin was one large room, with a door at the back. It was empty, a trail of blood leading to another door, this one closed with scratches of its own. At least one of the 'wolves had been here, but it hadn't gotten inside. Maybe they thought that while one heavily armed man was an acceptable risk, four was just stupid. Good for them. Of course, once this was all over, I was still gonna hunt them down and turn their pelts into rugs, but they'd at least managed to extend their worthless lives by another lunar cycle. Unless they'd found a better way in… like a window on the other side of the cabin that lead straight to the small room on the other side of that door. The thought froze my blood and it took me a second to find my voice.

"Adam?" My voice seemed too loud in the unnatural silences of the cabin.

"Dad?" The voice came almost immediately from the closed door and I almost collapsed with relief.

"It's me."

The door flew open to reveal Adam, pale and sweating, a gun still clutched in his trembling hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. There was blood on his clothes and skin and he looked like he was going into shock. "Were you hurt," I asked as I gently pried the gun out of his hand.

He shook his head. I gave him a quick onceover anyway because he was so pale and his eyes looked glassy.

"Dean?"

He pushed the door open more and pointed at the still figure on the bed. I moved further into the room, Sam and Victor right behind me. I heard the door close, heard voices behind me, but all that mattered was my first born son, laying on a bed shaking and covered with sweat and blood. Too much blood. I closed my eyes tightly. I had to get my shit together. No time to lose it now, because if I lost it there was a good chance I'd lose Dean. Again. I turned to see Adam already digging through the first aid kit, pulling out the things he needed.

"Where'd you get all this stuff?"

"Hospital," I said shortly and ignored the look he shot me. "You said he wasn't bit. Why the hell's he unconcious?"

Adam caste a nervous glance at Dean and then at me before going back to gathering things. "He shouldn't be, although I have no idea why the infection is progressing so fast. But, dude, they're _werewolves_. No telling where their claws have been." I almost laughed at that, because the kid sounded so much like Dean it was eerie. "I couldn't get the bleeding to stop completely until we got here. Most of what's on him isn't his, though, so he didn't lose as much as it looks."

That set alarm bells off. "You washed out the wounds with holy water?"

"Yeah. First thing. That's all we had on us. Why? I thought lycanthropy was only transferable through the saliva."

"Is," I grunted, confirming what Dean had apparently already told him, "but the blood can kill a human. Send him into shock."

"Shit. Sam, help me out with this. So how do we counteract it?"

I swallowed down the bile that was trying to rise, burning my throat. "Flush the wound out with holy water and antiseptic. Then we wait."

I forced myself into action, cutting away what was left of Dean's clothing and checking his wounds while Adam inserted the IVs and got Sam to help him figure out how to hang the bags. I was relieved when I was able to confirm for myself that there were not bite marks. Just one hell of a nasty looking gash in the boy's side. I washed off the blood as best I could and covered him, leaving only the injury exposed. I cleaned it out again and then used disinfectant from the kit. Dean moaned and seemed to stir. Adam gave him some morphine and he settled.

"How long's he been out like this?"

"Not long. He was okay at first, then he started actin' weird, like he was hallucinating. Kept calling for his father. The name Alastair kept coming up too, but I think it was more along the lines of wanting him to stay away. Then he just… passed out completely." Adam stood at the side of the bed, watching Dean and chewing on his bottom lip. Apparently, Adam had come to care about Dean too. Didn't surprise me. The boy was easier to love then he ever gave himself credit for.

I nodded as I gathered materials to pack Dean's wound. Sowing him up would be a bad idea until we knew the antibiotics were working and the wound wouldn't need to be cleaned out again.

"I can do that, Dad," Adam offered. He looked puzzled, like there was something about the situation that was confusing him. Couldn't say I blamed him. I was treating someone he thought was a stranger like a son.

I shook my head. "I got it, son. Sam, check Dean's pupils. Sit down Adam. We need to have a talk."

* * *

"So, let me get this straight… _Dean _is your son too?"

"Yeah. My first born." I looked down at Dean, ran my fingers through his short hair, still just as soft as I remembered it. He didn't have the scars he used to and the hunter in me found that suspicious… but the father in me didn't give a fuck. I'd burned his body after all… whoever had brought him back must have had enough juice to make him a new one. He still had the birthmark I remembered from when he was still small enough for me to have to bath. He didn't have negative reactions to holy water, silver or iron. This was my boy. I knew it beyond logic or reason.

"And he sold his soul to bring Sam back from the dead, and part of the deal was that everyone would forget he ever existed?"

I snorted and shrugged slightly. "That's it in a nutshell."

Adam looked at all of us as if we'd lost our minds. "Why the fuck would he _do_ something like that? I mean, not that you're not a special guy and all Sam, but that's just fucked up."

I looked over my shoulder to see Sam blush and look away. I'd had enough conversations with him since remembering Dean to know he felt the same way. I turned back to my youngest son. "You haven't been around us long enough yet, kiddo. We kind of specialize in fucked up." My eyes wondered back to Dean, where my fingers were still buried in his hair. "It's the Winchester way."

"What if he… what if he doesn't make it?"

"He'll make it. He came back from Hell. I doubt a werewolf's gonna do him in after all that." And I hoped like hell I was right about that. "Get some shut eye, Adam. We only have a few hours till sunup. The minute day breaks, we're out of here."

Adam nodded and curled up on the bed next to Dean, but he never actually went to sleep. None of us did.

* * *

Dean's fever had broken just before dawn and I'd put the boys to work making a stretcher to carry Dean in. Even if he woke up, he wasn't going to be doing much walking. He'd hate being carried, but it wasn't like he could do much about it. I'd come back in here for a moment alone with my boy. My Dean. I had him back. I took one of his hands in both of mine and closed my eyes. I wasn't going to cry. Not now, not here. But god, it was a close thing.

"You're a hallucination. Or a dream. Aren't you?" My head snapped up at the familiar voice and staring right back at me were green eyes I'd thought I'd never see again.

"Dean…"

He snatched his hand out of mine and scooted away, or tried to only to stop suddenly with a grimace of pain. He wasn't looking directly at me, almost as if he was afraid to. "No, it can't really be you." His voice was breathy, otherwise it was steady.

"Son, I'm really here."

A strangled sob tore its way out of his chest as he curled up a little on his uninjured side. "No…" He ran his fingers through his hair and looked pretty damn close to losing it all together.

"Dean, look at me. Come on, kiddo, look at me. That's it. I'm real."

Dean had been staring into my eyes, looking for something. Finally he blinked, drew in a deep breath. "So… you really…"

"I'm really here and I remember you, son. I know about the crossroads, about the four months you spent in Hell, that was actually forty years. I don't know how or why you're back, but I'm so fucking grateful you are, you have no idea. God, Dean, when I remembered you and I thought you were gone…" My voice cracked and rubbed my fingers across my mouth.

Dean reached up, gripped handfuls of my shirt, and pulled me down into a hug. "You weren't ever supposed to… but I'm so glad you do. I missed you, Dad. Missed you so fucking much. You and Sammy." His voice was strained and hoarse. He seemed to relax a little then went suddenly rigid and I pulled away to look at him, wondering if he'd hurt himself. I saw the tell tale signs of pain in his face, but more than that I saw fear. "Oh, God Dad… Adam. Where the hell's Adam?"

"He's fine. He called me. He did real good, Dean. Saved your life just like you saved his. Now we're gonna get you out of here. But first, there's something I think you need to know." I took a deep breath as I tried to figure out how to tell Dean that Sammy still didn't remember him.

_

* * *

_

A/N:

_Here you go, __**Susiiicik**__! Hope you enjoy._

_Glad you enjoyed the last chapter, __**ShortLILPunk**__. Hope this one meets your expectations_

_Hey __**Eeyore08**__! Glad you're still with me and enjoying the story._

_I think I understood Bela, __**lace and silk**__. In my humble opinion, I think people see anyone oppose the boys and they kind of dislike them as a knee-jerk reaction instead of looking at them as a person. Bela wasn't Gordon. She wasn't out to get them… she was just scared and desperate. She heard the 'hounds at night and saw demons just like Dean was towards the end. I felt bad for her, that she didn't find any understanding from anyone until it was too late. And Adam is John's son… for me that means I almost have to love him. LOL!_

_That's exactly right, __**rog457**__. I just want to reach through the screen and punch anyone who calls Dean weak or stupid (and that includes Sammy, although I'd fix him up afterwards). He's neither, and anyone that underestimates him usually ends up dead. As well they should. LOL. And yeah… poor Dean's got years worth of angst going on._

_Here you go, __**SlothKeeper**__. Hope you enjoy this installment._

_Glad you found gainful employment, __**redgriffin7**__, and welcome back! Glad you liked the previous chapters and hope this one was worth the wait!_

_-Angie_


	9. Woodstock for Werewolves

**Woodstock for Werewolves**

"What happened? Is it Sam?" Dean's eyes were wide with fear that bordered on panic.

"It's nothing like that," I said quickly to reasure him. "Sam's out in the other room with Adam and Victor making a stretcher for you."

"For fuck's sake Dad! You guys are not carrying me out of here like some bitch! I can walk."

"I don't care if you can or not."

"But Dad-"

"This isn't a democracy, Dean."

Dean huffed out a breath and folded his arms, looking for all the world like an obstinate four year old on the verge of a tantrum. If he'd have been standin g up he might have stomped his foot. "Fine. But I get to pick the music."

"'S long as it's somethin' I don't hate."

He was trying not to smirk. "Well that just sucks all the joy out of it."

"I got all your tapes. Sam thought they were mine. I used to listen to 'em all the time. Didn't know why they put me in such a mood until I remembered. Used to just sit in my truck with a bottle of Jim Beam and listen to your tapes." I sucked in a deep breath. "Damn it, boy, you're not allowed to die before me. Not again. You understand me?"

Dean blinked at me and swallowed a couple of times. "How about we go out together. Big blaze of glory."

"That ain't funny. You boys're supposed to outlive me. That's the whole damn point… I'd die a thousand times over to make that happen."

"Dad…"

I wiped my face with my free hand. "I need to talk to you about your brother. About Sam."

I could see him bracing himself before nodding. "Okay."

"I only remember you because I used a spell. It was… risky. I'm the only one it affected."

Dean stared at me silently. He got what I was saying immediately, but I watched the reality of what I was saying slowly sink in. "He doesn't… he…"

"I'm sorry, Dean. I swear to you I will find a way to make him remember. I just… I don't know how long it's going to take. But how much he loved you, how much he counted on you… that's all still there, son."

"I'm just a stranger to him, Dad."

"No… you're more than that. You were always more than that."

"I remember, Dad. I remember how you looked at me at that crossroads. That's all I was to you."

"I kept all your things. Your wallet, your weapons, your music. The only way I can explain that is on some level I knew. Knew who you were and tried to hold on to some part of you. Sammy's doin' the same damn thing. I see it. He may not know you when he looks at you, he may not remember specifics, but he knows you. You just have to give it time and have faith. And I swear to you, one way or another, I'll get his memories back."

"Dad? We're finished… oh… you're awake." Sam's voice went a little high and squeaky at the end of his sentence like it sometimes did when he was nervous.

Dean's head shot up at the sound of his brother's voice, but he quickly looked away from his eyes. "Sam… hey."

"I'm really glad you're… awake. We got a lot of… catching up to do."

Dean snorted softly. "Yeah. Catchin' up." I didn't think Sam caught the trace of bitterness in Dean's voice.

"Go get your brother. We have to clean out Dean's wound again and sow it up if it looks good enough."

"Uhm… yes sir," Sam mumbled as he headed out the door.

Dean snorted. "Finally beat some obedience into him, I see."

I chuckled and shook my head at Dean's teasing. "Need give you somethin' for the pain, son."

Dean looked at me with a frown. "I'm good." This was definitely my first born. Never liked to admit when he was in pain. Any kind of pain.

"Wasn't a question, boy."

Dean snorted. "Course not. So what are you doping me up with now?"

"You make it sound like I keep you drugged. It's just a little morphine. Just enough to take the edge off. That gash in your side's gonna hurt like a bitch when we clean it out."

"Think it'll leave a scar," he asked hopefully and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"There some reason you want it to?"

He shrugged. "I earned those scars."

And it suddenly made sense. He had earned those scars, every last damn one of them and he woke up to find them gone along with the rest of his life. "Well, you just earned a new one. Think of this as a chance to get a whole new set."

Sam returned with Adam in tow. Adam smiled brightly when he saw Dean awake and coherent. "Dude! You scared the hell out of me."

"Yeah… well, I scared the hell out of myself. You saved my life, man. Killin' that 'wolf, draggin' my ass in here and callin' Dad. Most people would have fallen apart when things went south like that."

Adam shrugged and looked away, blushing. "I woulda been dead if you hadn't jumped in front of me like that. As many times as you've saved my ass, it was about time I returned the favor."

* * *

In my opinion, a high Dean was even more fun than a drunk Dean. He teased everyone, including me, and Sam seemed completely shocked that he was able to get away with that. Sam didn't remember that this was Dean, this was his brother. Unless we were on a hunt, or debriefing from a hunt, and as long as he didn't become inappropriate, Dean was allowed to tease even me. But Sam got the most teasing, because Dean had to most material on him. He took it better than he ever had before, and I thought it was probably because he was learning things. Learning the difference between what he remembered and what actually happened. His first date, the first time he'd had sex. His sleeping habits and how he refused to sleep apart from Dean for a few years. They're long and inventive prank wars. Of course, Dean only told the things he did to Sammy. Never the other way around.

"Dude, I can't believe you want to carry me, like I'm some sort of invalid."

Sam blinked at him, because he'd said the right word, but with the wrong pronunciation. Which, in Sammy's book meant he'd said that wrong word. "An _invalid_?"

"'S what I said, bitch."

Sam frowned at him, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times as he tried to think of a comeback.

"Dean," I finally said, "your ass is going on that stretcher. End of discussion."

Dean sighed theatrically. "Yessir."

"We got everything packed up?"

"We're good to go," Victor said from the corner where he stood watching us.

"Great. There's four of us. Two of us carry Dean, two of us carry the supplies. We switch off every twenty minutes. Victor, I need you to trail us with my truck. I'm sticking with Dean." I wasn't prepared to let the boy out of my sight. The memory of my grief when I thought I'd lost him was still too raw. Dean had been dead, in Hell. He should have been lost to me forever. He could freaking tease me for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He was back. I had my boy back.

"Can't stay away, huh?" Dean teased. But I could tell he was relieved.

I gave an exaggerated eye roll. "God, no! I'm madly in love with you."

Dean snorted. "Whatever, old man."

I had Dean give me a debrief on the hunt while we made our egress. Partly to keep his mind off the pain and the indignity of being carried around on a stretcher, and partly because it had to be done at some point. Even buzzed, Dean gave a hell of a good debrief.

"I decided to do it at night, during a full moon because those're the conditions that a hunt like that usually gave you. Just barely enough light to see your hand in front of your face. We entered from the east at sundown and I picked up the trail. Once Adam was confident that he was following it too, I let him take point. He did good, Dad. He picked up the tracking gene from you. Thought he lost the tracks a couple of times, but he picked it right back up.

"Then we saw the fresh tracks. At least three sets. I freaked out. We had silver, cause you always say prepare for everything, but I tried to get us out, back to the car. I heard it a split second before I saw it. Sneaky son of a bitch jumped out of the bush right at Adam. I managed to get in front of him first. Woulda gutted me, but it was aiming for Adam and I was a little too close and the angle was wrong. I went down, hard and it was right on top of me, snapping at me. That's when Adam shot it.

"How he managed to get me to the cabin, I can't tell you. I was out of it about a quarter of the way there. Next thing I knew, you were there."

"Any ideas on why these woods seem to be holding a Woodstock for werewolves?"

Dean chuckled softly, careful not to disturb his injury. "Not a freakin' clue. Except that the universe hates me."

Sam snorted that time. "You sound like Dad."

"You said they usually kill each other when they trespass on each other's territory?"

I regarded Adam silently for a moment. He sounded like he had an idea. "Yeah?"

"Maybe something else is, I don't know, keeping them here and together for some reason. And if we can get rid of whatever it is…"

"They'll kill each other for us. Leaving us with one, hopefully wounded, 'wolf to deal with. I like that idea."

"What could do somethin' like that?"

"A witch," Sam and Dean said at that same time.

"Fuckin' _hate_ witches," Dean added.

"We'll figure it out. Soon as we get to the next hotel." I paused and regarded Dean. Something was bothering me about what Adam said earlier. "Who's Alistair?"

Dean stiffened and went pale. "Why'd you ask that?"

Dean's method of avoiding the truth with me was always evasion. As far as I knew, he'd never outright lied to me. "You were screamin' his name."

"Dude! I was so out of it, I actually hallucinated a conversation with Azazel."

"Azazel?"

"Yeah. Bastard claimed you killed him. Which is impossible, right? I mean, you can't literally kill a demon."

"Actually, son, I did kill Azazel."

Dean's face crumpled for a split second before he was able to control his reaction. But I'd seen it, still saw it in his eyes. "Seriously? So you think it was really him?"

"You know as well as I do that just about anything's possible. What did he say, Dean?"

"It doesn't matter. Demons lie, right?"

"Dean… what did he say?"

Dean swallowed thickly. "He said we were in limbo, that angels and demons apparently get stuck there when they're killed cause you can't complete destroy them. He said…"

"Tell me, son." Dean's eyes darted from Sam to Adam and back to me. It was something he felt ashamed of. And I was starting to get worried. "It's okay. Everybody here is on your side."

He made a noise in the back of his throat as closed his eyes and tried to control his emotions and put a hand on his shoulder. "He said I broke the first seal. That I…"

"I know, son. It's okay. I already know."

His eyes snapped open and he stared at me incredulously. "You _know_?"

"Remember the book you found?"

"You mean the fucking Light Bearer Prophesy?"

"That would be the one. Bobby told me that part of it was about a righteous man falling in Hell. When Azazel told me what had happened to you… I knew. Doesn't matter to me. Thought I told you before that nothin' you could ever do could make me feel different about you."

Dean was giving me that look again, the one that told me he thought I was probably a little crazy. "I fucking kick started the _apocalypse_, Dad. That's kinda big."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Adam had stopped abruptly and thrown his hands up, waving them frantically. "Anybody want to catch the new kid up on what the hell you guys are talkin' about?"

"Actually," Dean said, "no. So keep moving."

Adam crossed his arms, a mulish expression on his face that gave me a bad sense of déjà vu. Stubbornness was obviously a strong Winchester trait. Maybe even a prerequisite. Why couldn't I have one easy kid? Just one? Dean was great and all, but he had his moments too. "I'm not going any were until you tell me. So you can leave me out here or start talking."

Dean glared at the kid like he wanted nothing more than to get up off the stretcher he was being carried on and kick his ass. But he couldn't and I wondered if Adam knew how lucky he was that he couldn't. When they were teenagers, I'd sometimes get adjoining rooms just to get some distance from the constant fighting. That way they could have their petty arguments and I could keep my sanity. And I was close enough to hear them just in case things escalated and step in before one of them (_Dean_) killed the other (_Sam_). Couldn't count all the times I had to extricate Sam from one of Dean's infamous holds.

I sighed. "Can we at least walk while I explain?"

"Dad!" Dean looked at me like I'd betrayed him. And he probably felt like I had.

"If he's going to hunt with us, he needs to know," I said as reasonably as I could. "And it's nothin' to be ashamed of."

"Poppin' the first lock on ol' Luci's cell is nothin' to be ashamed of? _Seriously_?"

"When Dean sold his soul, he was considered righteous. He was a hunter, he saved people. The first seal on the box that Lucifer was locked away in could only be opened by a righteous man falling in Hell. Dean fit the bill and since then Lilith's been poppin' 'em like their goin' out of style." I purposely left out that falling in Hell meant a lot more than just going there. Dean obviously didn't want anyone knowing what he'd spent the last decade of his stay in Hell doing, and I hadn't told anyone the specifics. Not even Bobby.

"So what do we do?" Adam looked back and forth between me and Dean.

"Find the bitch and kill her," Sam said.

"What? She's the only demon who wants to raise Lucifer? I mean, how do we know that once she's dead our problems are over?"

"She might not be the only one that wants to, but she's the only one who can."

I looked down at Dean, who was looking up at me gratefully. He knew I knew, and that I'd covered for him. I gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder. "Alright boys. Let's get out of here. We got work to do."

* * *

"You've been awfully quiet."

Victor looked me in the eye for a moment before shrugging and going back to studying his beer bottle like it held the secrets to the universe. The boys were on the other side of the room watching the Godzilla vs. Mothra and they wondered why I sometimes had a hard time remembering they were adults. Dean was on the center of the bed on the far side, one little brother on each side like he was the center of the universe because even Sammy was caught up in his aura of cool the way he hadn't been since he turned twelve. Dean's eyelids were drooping, but he was fighting sleep because he loved the attention even if he'd never admit it. "Not much to say."

I snorted. "You don't have much to say? You? The only person I know who asks more questions than Sammy?"

"I just… I kinda felt like a third wheel."

"Never struck me for the insecure type, Victor."

"Not so much insecure as… curious. Wondering how all this is gonna shake out."

I shrugged. It wasn't like I was going to kick the kid out because I had Dean back, anymore then Dean was going to ignore Adam because he had Sam back, even after Sam remembers. "You're part of the family now. Only way out at this point is if you get yourself dead."

Victor snorted. "Good to know."

* * *

I'd sent the boys out on errands, leaving just me and Dean behind. The kid was watching me suspiciously. Always did know when I had ulterior motives even when no one else could figure it out. After all, Sam did need to go to the library to look up local lore and anything suspicious in old news stories. Victor needed to hit the bars and the police station to see what the locals knew. And they all needed to eat, so sending Adam for food shouldn't have made anyone suspicious. But Dean knew me.

"Okay, old man. You got me all to yourself. What is it?"

"Tell me about Alistair."

He drew in a sharp breath and looked away. "I don't… that's not really somethin' I wanna think about, Dad."

"You've told me about bad things that have happened to you before."

"What happened with Alistair was worse than the rape."

I swallowed and sat down next to my son. "Tell me."

* * *

_A/N:_

_Nope, **Vindictivemuse5**. Sam still doesn't remember._

_Thanks for the review, **ShortLILPunk**. Yes, Adam is a Winchester. I think the show really fumbled the handling of this character. Because he was a Winchester and they treated him like a plot point. Mary, who was on less and a Winchester by marriage only, got more respect. But I'm not gonna start ranting about how much potential I think the show's blown, LOL. But, yes, I love John and if anyone's looking for a writer to portray him as an irredeemable jerk they won't find it in me._

_LOL, **Danaa**… yes, there's a lot of awkwardness. Sort of flipped the script here so that Adam actually knows Dean better then Sam. But even though Sam doesn't consciously remember Dean, John's right. He remembers emotionally. And they still blurt out the same thing at the same time._

_That's Dean in a nutshell, **rog457**. He does what he needs to do, no matter how much it costs and he doesn't complain about it._

_Thanks, **redgriffin7**. I've probably given the Winchesters emotional whiplash by now._

_-Angie_


	10. You Can Always Come Back Home

**You Can Always Come Back Home**

Dean stared at me for a few second before finding the blanket on his bed interesting. The silence in the room stretched out until it was unbearably loud. He was crying quietly, tears periodically falling onto the blanket and it broke my heart. Dean rarely cried, and when he did it wasn't much. I waited him out, just sitting next to him, letting him take his time with it.

"When I first got to Hell… I was alone. In this huge empty space. Everything was red, like blood, and there were these thick black chains everywhere and I was hanging from them by meat hooks. Just suspended over a big vast nothing. I screamed myself hoarse for hours, but nobody came." I closed my eyes as if that could stop me from seeing images of my son hanging from fucking meat hooks and covered my mouth to keep myself from stopping him. Because this was just the beginning. This was just setting the horrific stage. "Until Alistair. He shows up with this huge ass smile like this is the best day of his god damned life. Leans over me and makes me an offer. The only way I ever get off the rack was if I worked it. I told him to go fuck himself. He thought that was just hilarious. That was the thing about Alistair. Bastard was fucking unflappable. Didn't matter what you said, he'd just wear you down, keep you screamin' the entire day. Then it would just start all over again the next. Always with that fucking smile. Bastard was inventive, I'll give him that. Don't think he ever took me apart the same way twice." Dean hunched over and wiped his face angrily, clenched his hands in front of him. "I broke, Dad… I broke."

I felt hollowed out listening to that. I didn't know how the hell my boy was even functioning right now after that. "It took thirty years, Dean."

"But it happened. I tortured people. Alistair used to say always tell me how much promise I had, that one day I'd be as good as he was. The things I did to those people, Dad. They were _people_, Dad. Maybe they were bad people, maybe they all deserved to be in Hell, but they were still people. And I carved them up like they meant nothing. When I sleep, that's what I dream about the most. Not what Alistair did to me. What he taught me. Standing next to me offering direction and encouragement. Showing me how to make the cut just deep enough to hurt but not deep enough kill. Praising me when I learned how to make them last the entire day. I drink myself into a stupor just so I won't dream… and sometimes that doesn't even work."

"You'll get past that, Dean."

He looked at me for the first time and I realized that I'd said the wrong thing. Looking at the pain in my boy's eyes, I wished for the thousandth time that it had been me who'd made the deal the night Sammy died. "I don't want to! I don't deserve to!"

"What you don't deserve was the shit deal you've been handed for the past two years, son. That's what you don't deserve."

"I was Hell's bitch, Dad. And to top it all off? I let the Devil out of his cage."

I stared at him silently. For the first time in his life, I couldn't figure out what to say to my boy. My heart felt cold and dead in my chest and I was almost shocked that I was still breathing. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay. What happened is what happened. You can't undo it, you can't drink it away. There ain't no fuckin' ruby slippers that you can click together three times and wish things different." I wished there were, wished I could somehow make this okay for him.

"So what the hell do I do?"

"You learn what you need to know from it and you stop looking back because it will destroy you if you don't. You do what you need to do today. Fuck yesterday, fuck tomorrow, fuck next week, fuck next year. Just concentrate on today, right now."

Dean snorted and looked away. "You sound like a twelve-step program."

"That so? Well, I guess there must be some merit to 'em after all. And I'm still proud of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I missed you, son."

"I missed you too, Dad. Missed you so damn much."

"So, you gonna tell me how you got back?"

"You ready for this," he asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Got pulled out by an angel."

"An _angel_? As in with a halo and wings?"

"Apparently. Only, get this, they gotta have meatsuits just like demons otherwise they burn out our eyes when we look at 'em. They call the people they possess vessels, and apparently they have to agree to do it. The one that sprung me, Castiel, looks like he's ridin' a freaking accountant or somethin'."

"So angels exist?"

"They do. But they're pretty much dicks."

I snorted. "Color me shocked. But I owe this Castiel a huge debt for bringin' you back to me."

Dean blushed and picked at his blanket. "Didn't do it for you. According to Cas, I'm the world's only hope to stop Lucifer."

"Really? Well, you won't have to do it alone. You never have to do anything alone again."

* * *

After raising two sons, one who was prone to sneaking out to hook up with local girls and another who was just prone to sneaking out to get away, I was an old hand at waking up instantly when the hotel door opened, even in adjacent rooms. Sam was a grown man, but he still snuck out at night. He always came back these days though so I tried not to worry about it. Tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and let him have his space. It was difficult, and completely against my nature. But Sam was different, harder and I could tell that Victor was worried. So this time when I heard him leave the room I got up. It didn't surprise me to hear Dean pull on his pants too.

"Dean, go back to bed. You'll pull your stitches."

"I've been on my ass for two whole days. I'm good. Sore, but good. 'S long as I don't strain, they'll be fine. Need to get up and walk around anyway, right? Blood clots and all that?"

I huffed out a sigh. One son who wasn't a stubborn jackass would be nice. Of course, all three of them came by it honestly. "Fine. Just be careful."

"He do that often?" Dean's voice was hushed, but Victor was awake too. Only Adam was still asleep and I was starting to think me might take after Sammy with the hard sleeping. Must get it from my side of the family. And all these years I'd blamed the Campbells.

"Often enough," I breathed out.

"You knew?" Victor raised his head and squinted at me.

"Yeah. I know. Always know when my boys sneak out, fond of it as they both are."

"Hey," Dean said as he finished tying his shoes, "I just snuck out to get laid. Sammy was always trying to get to the freaking other side of the country."

"Why didn't you do anything?" Victor sounded genuinely curious.

"I was trying to be a kinder, gentler Dad. You could say I'm reverting." Dean seemed to think that was hilarious.

"A kinder, gentler Dad," Dean asked as we walked out of the room and began tracking Sam. Not an easy thing over asphalt, but doable. Especially with as much weight as Sam carried and the way he walked. "Seriously?"

I sighed heavily, the stopped cold when Sam's tracks ended at the street. He'd gotten a ride. No way had he found a car that quickly to procure, and the tracks didn't match that scenario anyway. "I do not like this."

"You should not."

I jumped and pulled my gun at the same time at the sound of an unfamiliar voice far too close to me. Dean put his hand on my arm. "This is the angel, Dad. Castiel."

"Shit. You almost ended up with an extra hole in you."

He cocked his head and frowned slightly at me like he was mildly perplexed. "It would have done no harm to me or to my vessel." I was taking a definite dislike to this 'angel' and the desire to test out his claim was almost too strong to resist.

"'S not worth it, Dad," Dean said softly before turning to face the guy. He was shorter than you'd expect an angel to be. "You got news about Sammy?"

"He is meeting with a demon."

"Whoa, wait a minute. Sounded like you said he was meeting with a demon."

"Yes. There is a plan surrounding him. We have never been able to find out the details, but we fear that this is part of it. You must stop him or we will."

"Just wait a god damned minute," I snarled, moving closer to Castiel. "Are you _threatening_ my boy?"

"No, John. I am just informing you of what will happen. You must stop him. Azazel's plans were dangerous, and I fear that we have still not seen the worst of their fruit. I will take you to where Samuel is, so that you can see for yourselves."

"Okay." I expected him to give us directions while I drove the truck or while Dean drove the Impala. What I didn't expect was for him to grab my shoulder with one hand and Dean's with the other. The world melted away and suddenly we were somewhere else and I nearly lost dinner as an intense wave of vertigo swept over me. "Shit…"

"Next time warn a guy!" Dean whispered furiously, but Castiel was nowhere to be seen. "_Hate_ it when he does that."

I was too busy looking in the window that Castiel had dropped us off in front of to listen, though. Dean stopped speaking and stood next to me watching. Inside was a man tied to a chair in the middle of a devil's trap painted on the floor. Sam stood in front of him, a blonde woman standing next to him. It reminded me of all the times I'd done something similar, trying to find out information about Azazel. Sam and the woman were in some sort of deep discussion. After a few seconds, Sam raised a hand towards the possessed man and squinted at him. It would have been funny if the hairs on the back of my neck weren't standing on end. The demon started pouring out of the man and covering the floor inside the trap. And then it was gone. Sam dropped his hand, looking exhausted, a thin stream of blood coming from his nose. The woman looked pleased and I just felt sick all over again.

"What the fuck was that," Dean hissed next to me and before I knew it he was stalking towards the door and I followed. What I really wanted to do was drag Dean somewhere safe and then come back and find out the answer to that question. Because, really, the boy shouldn't be stalking anywhere with that fucking gash in his side.

"Dean… Dad… what're you two doing here."

"Funny… that's exactly what I was going to ask you," I said calmly, almost conversationally. Sam went pale and wide eyed at my tone, taking a step back and swallowing hard. "What the fuck is this, Sam?"

The woman cleared her throat. "Maybe I'd better go."

"Yeah," Dean said, eyeing her suspiciously. "Why don't you take that poor son of a bitch over there with you."

The woman looked from Dean to the limp form still tied to the chair and back again. "I, uh, I think one of you big strong guys should probably do that."

"Ruby's right," Sam added. "She should just go and we'll take care of the poor bastard."

"You can't, can you?" Dean was staring at the woman, eyes narrowed. "Not if you wanna get back outta that trap without one of us breaking it?"

The demon's eyes got wide and she ran out the door in the back of the room without warning. Sam stepped in front of me when I moved to go after her. The sound of glass breaking could be heard.

"Dad, it's not what you think."

"Oh, so you haven't been sneaking off with a demon to learn how to use your superpowers?"

"Dean… it's not like that. You're making it sound… Dad, you have to understand. You do what you have to, right? I can kill Lilith if I get strong enough. That's why she's afraid of me."

I snorted. "You know, there have been times when I've been frustrated with you, when I've actually considered throttling the hell out of you and when I just downright didn't _get_ you, son. But this is the first time I've ever actually been disappointed in you."

Sam stepped back like I'd slapped him. "That's… that's not fair. Dean starts the apocalypse and you're all 'I don't see you any different, son.' But you're disappointed in me for trying to end it?"

"He didn't do it on _purpose_ Sam!" I was yelling, but I really couldn't help it. I was so angry and scared I couldn't see straight. "He didn't fucking wake up in the morning one day and say, hey this is the perfect day to let the devil outta his cage! But you? You've been lying to me and sneaking around behind my back for _months_. And with a _demon_. A demon, Sam? Really?"

"But she's already helped us. That's where I got the hex bags that hide us from Lilith. How I find out so much information about what's going on."

"And what the hell does she get out of the deal? In case you ain't noticed, son, demons ain't exactly the altruistic types. They don't do things out of the goodness of their hearts."

"Mainly," Dean said, "'cause they don't _have_ hearts."

Sam held out his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I'm not sayin' that she's a humanitarian. She doesn't want to go back to Hell, and she's afraid of Lilith. She found out that I was the only one who could kill her and she wanted to make sure that I was ready when the time came. She's done nothing but help me. Help _us_."

"I don't want that kind of help Sam. But you're an adult… I can't stop you from leaving again."

"Dad… what are you saying."

"I'm sayin' it's this thing or it's us."

"You're kicking me out? Again?"

I sighed, suddenly feeling a hundred years old. All the anger leached out of me and all I felt was sad and scared. I felt like I was in a battle for my son's soul and I was losing. Badly. "I've never kicked you out, Sammy. You're always _runnin' away_ and I'm always chasin' after you or trying to stop you. This isn't an ultimatum like the fight about Stanford. This is just the way it has to be, because while you may be willing to risk your life on the tender mercies of a fucking demon, I'm not willing to stand around and watch you do it. And I'm not willing to risk Dean and Adam too – or even Victor – on the trustworthiness of a demon. So if this is somethin' that you gotta do, it has to be without us."

"You've got Dean back and now you don't need me, is that it?"

"Why is it that you only hear what you want to hear? I don't want you to go. I want us to stay together, to fight this as a family. I used to think it was better if I went off on my own too. But I know better now. We're stronger together. We can't let anything pull us apart."

"Translation: 'Sammy knuckle under and do what the fuck you're told.'"

"Sam, Dad's not just tryin' to get his way here. We can't trust demons. Hell, the only people I trust are Winchesters. To hell with everybody else, angels and demons included."

Sam scoffed. "No offense, but I don't even know you, man. As far as I can see though, you're about an inch from fallin' completely apart. The only one who can save the world my ass."

I sucked in a breath. I should have seen that coming because the only time Sam claims to mean no offense is when he really, really does. Dean's face went carefully blank and he looked away, swallowing convulsively. Sam may not remember Dean, but he still sure as hell knew how to hurt him. "Dammit, Sam! That was fucking uncalled for!"

I felt Dean's hand on my arm. "No, Dad. He's right. I don't know what the hell Cas is goin' on about half the damn time either. All I know is _this_ is wrong. Demons don't help us. They don't save us. Not without their pound of flesh and some really fucked up ulterior motives. You don't know me," his voice was strangled like that hurt to say and he took a deep breath before going on. "But I know you. You always give everyone else the benefit of the doubt, even demons. Can't you just, this one time, give it to Dad? I've watched him kill himself for the past twenty six years to keep you safe. That's gotta count for somethin', Sammy."

Sam's face crumpled and he blinked away tears. "I'm not some stupid kid who can't do anything on his own."

"No, you're not. When nobody else around, you were there for me. You don't remember that, but I do. You stepped up when I needed you. You stepped up when Dad needed you. Stupid kids don't do that. We need you Sam. We're stronger as a family."

"But Ruby-"

"Is a _demon_, Sam! And even if she wasn't? She ain't family. I got this angel named Cas that keeps showin' up outta the blue. If he ever expected me to do anything that I thought might hurt you or Dad or Adam? I'd tell him to blow it right out of his ass. 'Cause he's _not family_. If I ever have to choose between anybody and you guys? You will win every damn time."

Sam hugged himself, at least one tear escaping his rapidly blinking eyes. I went to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Stay with us, son."

"And if I don't?" He sounded challenging and petulant, but I heard the scared little boy underneath.

I gave him a smile that hurt all the way down to my chest and shrugged. "You can always come back home."

Sam's eyes got big and he sucked in a huge gasping breath before throwing himself at me and just _clinging_. He was only two inches taller than me, but the kid had the wingspan of a fucking Yeti. Adam might be younger, but Sammy was always going to be the baby in so many ways.

* * *

I checked Dean's wound and changed the bandages when we got back to the hotel. I was just relieved that he hadn't torn anything. Boy always healed fast. Sam was out like a light before we'd been back ten minutes. Apparently, learning to use demonic powers was exhausting. Dean and I were both unable to go back to sleep and we were sitting on the hood of the Impala watching the sun rise, my oldest relaxed and slightly loopy from the pain killers I'd forced him to take along with his antibiotics. "Thanks, Dean."

"For?"

"Savin' my ass back there with Sam."

He shrugged and blushed a little. "You woulda figured it out."

I snorted. "Yeah. After he'd stormed off in a huff of righteous indignation."

"Well, you've changed too. 'You can always come home.' Where the hell'd you get that line from? A Hallmark card?"

I laughed. "I thought it was better then, 'if you walk out that door, don't come back.' Cause, you know, that worked out _so well _the last time around."

He laughed softly. "Yeah. Awesome."

"And for what it's worth, if anyone can single handedly save the world, it's you. You're one tough bastard, kiddo. Anybody that'd underestimate any of my boys is a dumb fuck."

Dean shifted uncomfortably before changing the subject. "Yeah, well, all I know is if I ever see that demon bitch again, I'm sendin' her ass straight to limbo with Azazel."

"You and me both, son. You and me both. I suppose we should get the Colt from Bobby's safe."

"Uhm, Dad? About that…"

I took a deep breath and braced myself. Whatever Dean was about to say, I knew I wasn't going to like at all.

_

* * *

_

A/N:

_Thanks, __**SlothKeeper**__. And Zachariah was not right about anything. Let alone Adam. They seemed to be saying that in the episode when he said it, but then they forgot it themselves._

_**Babyreaper**__, dude! I can't tell you if Sam remembers. You just have to wait and see. And, yes, everything that happened to Dean in Hell in canon happened to him in my story._

_Thank you, __**lace and silk**__. There will be much more Alistair to come. I just made Adam a fuller character – and actual person as opposed to a plot point. Thought the kid deserved it. He's a Winchester after all._

_Sorry for the confusion, __**Lita of Jupiter**__. I must have accidentally erased the fact that this was a sequel from the summery. It's been replaced! As for Bela being dead and Dean being the one who ganked Gordon… we'll just have to wait and see…_

_Yes __**LuckyMe1**__, it is good to have them all back together again. Just the way it should be._

_Thanks for giving me such detailed reviews, __**ShortLILPunk**__! Yes, the addition of Adam and (for Sam) Dean is shacking up all the family dynamics. Even John, who knew about Adam for four years, still thought of Sam as his baby boy. So having them all together is going to get interesting._

_That's just Dean, __**rog457**__. He usually only falls apart on the inside. Poor kid's devastated. I might make a oneshot of Dean's recounting of their childhood. I've been considering it, but it would have to be later, when I'm not so busy. Poor Sam doesn't get the John/Dean dynamic at all. He's only used to the John/Sam dynamic. (All meant in a non-slash non-incestuous way… lol.)_

_Thank you, __**ChelseaWinchester**__. I take all of that as high praise. To answer your questions: 1) Bobby was never told anything. But Bobby, not being a stupid man, has figured it out even though he's never discussed it with any of the Winchesters. 2) Dude! I can't give that away!_

_Thanks, __**redgriffin7**__! The thing about having two teenaged boys is that no matter how much they love each other, they still fight. I can imagine how much that used to frustrate John. So glad you enjoyed the last chapter._

-Angie


	11. Slayer of Dragons

**Slayer of Dragons**

I glared at Ruby until she lowered her gaze. This is exactly what Daddy always meant when he said good help was hard to find. I clinched my teeth and counted to ten… and then twenty… and then fifty. I was _not_ going to lose my temper. Daddy always said good decisions couldn't be made in haste… they had to be plotted, planned. Every move had to take into account the next dozen possible moves. The whole point of keeping Ruby a secret from John Winchester was that there was no way he'd allow a demon so close to his precious son. But now, John knew. And Sam was ignoring Ruby's calls. This… this was not good. We had less than a year to get Sam ready to sacrifice Lilith and he was already behind schedule.

I hissed out a long breath. "_First_, you let Daddy die-"

"I didn't _let_ that happen," she protested weakly.

I ignored her. "And _now_ you're fumbling the ball with the golden boy! I swear I have no idea what Daddy saw in you."

"I can fix this, Meg."

"How, Ruby? Gonna seduce him again? While I admit it is kinda fun to watch a mighty Winchester stooping so low as to willingly screw a dead body inhabited by a demon… I really don't think an encore is gonna solve our problems. How are you even going to get close to him again? John and Dean are obstacles we no longer have a way to get past, not without Sam's cooperation. He's not hooked on the blood enough yet for withdrawal to be anything more than a discomfort, nothing that would make him risk losing his family over."

"We'll just have to take a page out of Azazel's book and come at them sideways."

I raised an eyebrow at the stupid bitch cowering in front of me. "And you think you can come up with something like that?"

"I'd need help, of course. But there is one person that Sam would do anything to keep safe."

I huffed out a breath. "The child?"

"He is a Winchester male. You know how they are about their offspring."

I pursed my lips and considered it. It could work. "Maybe you're not as stupid as you look. Fine… I'll arrange it."

"How far are you going to take it?"

"As far as I have too… but I'll make sure no harm will come to my son. I'll make no promises for that stupid bitch Jo or her mother, though."

Ruby smiled. "Good. Because the more vicious it is, the better. The one thing Sammy can't stand is feeling helpless. But I think you should keep Jo alive… barely, of course, but alive. She'll be a nice way to distract the others while I finish his training."

"Fine… but if you fail me again, Ruby? I will personally make sure that you never get off the rack again."

She shuddered. "I won't fail."

"And Ruby? If the opportunity arises to get John out of the way without Sam suspecting you, take it."

"Revenge?"

"No… revenge would be letting him live to see Sam become Lucifer's vessel. This is practical. With time and the right leverage, we may be able to get Dean to let Sam have his way. He's been getting his way with Dean all his life. But John will never budge, and should he catch on again you may end up with dear old Dad. And losing John? Would shatter them both. It would make it so much easier to get what we need. So we pretend to move against the antichrist now… and we look for an opportunity to kill John down the road."

* * *

I woke up to an empty hotel room. I wasn't sure if Dad was being cheap or just having one of his rare 'paternal' moments, but we'd all been stuffed into the same motel room since we found Dean. It was the first time I could remember that I'd woken up alone in a very long time. I snorted at that thought. My memories were like enemies littering the hostile territory of my mind. What was true? What wasn't? It made me feel like my entire life was a dream. Someone else's dream. Dean's deal had altered my reality… had altered me. I mean, weren't we all the sum total of our experiences? So many of mine had been rewritten or even completely erased.

If that weren't bad enough, Dad and Dean caught me doing the one thing that I knew would make Dad completely flip. The shame of it crawled under my skin and made me feel sick to my stomach. I'd spent my entire life trying to prove I didn't need my father's approval, only to completely freak out when I don't get it.

I sat up and rubbed my face, trying to ignore the fear at the back of my mind. Told myself firmly that I hadn't been abandoned, that nothing had happened.

"Hey, Sam. I brought breakfast."

"That your new job now?"

"Dean says it's 'cause I'm the rookie."

A familiar feeling of jealousy ate at me as I listened to Adam talk about Dean. Why the hell was I jealous of Adam? I didn't even _know_ Dean. Why should it bother me that this kid had spent the last few months with him? Knew how he took his coffee, what he liked to eat.

"So… how do you like your stay in the land of Winchester so far?"

"Dean's been really cool. Always wanted a big brother. And Dad's… scary." I huffed out a breath. That was an understatement. "But in a good way, you know? I mean, it's the kind of scary that makes you feel safe. Like, if anything ever tried to hurt us, he'd hand it its ass."

That was an interesting way to look at it. Once I turned about thirteen, I never wanted my father to come to my schools for any reason. He was scary, far scarier than any of the other dads. He intimidated all my teachers and had them half convinced that the man might be locking me in a closet by the time the encounters were over. It got me sympathy, but even then when I was wishing that my father were anyone but John Winchester, I didn't want it.

I got up and looked out the window to see Dad and Dean outside, sitting on the hood of the Impala. Dad's truck was gone. Victor probably had it, running an errand for Dad. I stood there watching the easy way they were with each other, how completely relaxed their body language was. Until we found him a few days ago, Dean was just a concept. Just a something I'd forgotten. Something life-alteringly important, definitely, but more of a bone deep ache then an actual person. But there he was, outside with Dad. Real and alive. And a complete stranger.

"I can kind of see why Dean didn't want Dad to know I was with him."

"He didn't?"

"Nope. Said Dad would skin him alive. I can totally see it. I mean, if Dad found out when he didn't know who Dean was."

"Yeah. He probably would have skinned him alive. No one's allowed to put us in danger but Dad."

Adam frowned at me and I realized how bitter I sounded. And really… I had no reason to be bitter, did I? I mean, Dad had let me off easy when he caught me with Ruby. Part of me wanted to assert that it was none of his business. That he had no right to boss me around, to tell me what to do. But this whole clusterfuck that was our lives was because of me anyway. When I learned that there was a way to take what Azazel had done to me and use it for good, use it even to stop his plans to raise Lucifer, I'd felt like that was my chance to finally redeem myself. To count for something good. The way Dad had looked at me though… And the way Dean had looked at me had hurt just as much.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "So… what are Dad and Dean doing out there?"

"Arguing, I think."

"Arguing?"

"Not like they're mad at each other… but they're disagreeing about something. They both have their stubborn faces on. No yelling though. Which, I think is pretty amazing. They're both kind of big on the yelling when they get that way. Well, Dad doesn't exactly _yell_ so much as his voice gets all deep and gravely and calm. Dean yells. But they look like they're actually have a discussion."

"A discussion? Dad's actually upset and having a discussion?"

"I know, right?" Adam goes to the window and looks out. "Hey… I think Bella's here!"

"Bella?"

"Sort of Dean's girlfriend."

"Sort of?"

"Yeah… she made a deal. It's up in a couple of days."

"You mean she sold her soul?"

"Yeah. Dean's been tryin' to save her. I don't think it's going so well." Adam shrugged. "Thought you should know. Dean's not big on sharing."

I got up and stood next to Adam, looking over his shoulder. Dean was standing close to a brunette next to an expensive sports car. Dean brushed a hand against her cheek and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear as they spoke in hushed tones. I had to admit that she was gorgeous… like something out of a magazine. She looked upset and from what Adam told me, she had good reason to. Dean pulled her into an embrace and kissed her. She melted against him.

"Well, damn."

"I know. He's like the master. He's always picking up women for me."

"Picking up women for you?"

"Yeah. Dude… I've had more sex in the last three months then my entire freshman year."

"Dude… you don't think that's a little _shallow_?"

Adam shrugged. "Yeah. But it's a hell of a lot of fun. I'm only nineteen. It's not like I'm lookin' to settle down anytime soon."

I just blinked at him, not sure exactly what to say. Clearly, Dean was a horrible influence. "Girls aren't _fun_!" Wait a minute… that came out _completely_ wrong. And Adam was looking at me like I'd just lost my mind, which… yeah, understandable. "I mean, of course they're fun. But they're more than that… they're _people_, with real feelings. You can't have your brother picking them up for you like… like he's getting you a _pop_ from the corner store."

"Dude… I _know_ they're people. And they were willing people… I don't see what the big deal is. Everybody involved was a consenting adult. I mean, yeah, we lied about what we did for a living, but I don't think things would have worked out so well if we'd said we hunted ghosts and ran credit scams."

I sighed and gave up the argument. The kid seemed to have no idea why what he and Dean had been doing was disturbing. Dad, Dean and Bella seemed to be heading back towards the room anyway.

"Sammy, this is Bella, Bella this is Sammy. But he likes to be called Sam, cause he's a big boy now."

She laughed and held out her hand. "Sam… it's a pleasure to met you."

I let out a nervous laugh as I took her hand. "It's really nice to met you, too."

"See that stupid grin," Dean asked with a smirk. "Means he likes you."

I glared at my brother. "Dean!"

"Sam!"

"What?"

"Let go of the nice lady's hand, Sammy."

"Oh," I said as I looked down at my hand still holding hers. "Oh!" I pulled may hand away and shoved it in my pocket. Dean seemed to think it was hilarious.

"Told ya he was cute."

"Adorable," Bella giggled.

I felt my face heat.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean slapped me on the shoulder. "If you're a good boy, I'll take you out and help you find your own girl."

"Dean!" Bella looked halfway between scandalized and amused as she elbowed Dean in the ribs.

"Alright, children," Dad's voice boomed through the room. He looked amused too, though. Of course he was. Why not have a good laugh at my expense? "We got business to discuss."

Bella turned so completely serious that it was hard to believe that she'd just been laughing only seconds before. "Yes, we do. I believe this is yours." She pulled a box out of a small black duffle that she was holding and handed it to him.

"So… I take it that the Hail Mary didn't work."

"No," Bella said with a bitter little smile. "It didn't."

"But there are other things we can do."

"Like what? Keep me locked up in a warded room?"

"I know a friend who's got a safe room. We can make it hellhound proof in a couple of hours."

"I… I will not live my life in a tiny room, waiting for those things to find a way to break in. They always find a way."

"It's not forever," Dean broke in. "It's just till we find you a way out of this."

"There is no way out of this for me. I think it's time we all accepted that."

"Well, I can't accept that, Bella."

"Dean..."

"No… just give me a month. Please."

"And then you'll want another, and then another, and then it'll be a year. It will only be harder when the inevitable finally happens. I just… can we go somewhere and just be together?"

"Bella-"

"I think it's a good idea, son." Dad cut in.

"But Dad…"

"Don't but me, boy. Go. It'll still be the end of the world when you get back."

"Who are you and what the hell have you done with my father?"

"What? You'll have the girl thinkin' I'm some sort of hard ass." Everyone in the room just looked at Dad. "Yeah… okay, so I'm a hard ass. But I think it would be a good idea if you let me, Sam and Adam look for a way to save Bella, while you spend some time with her. Take her up to the cabin."

Dean took a deep breath. "Yeah… okay."

"But Dad," I cut in, "as much as I sympathize, we have to stop Lilith."

"And we will. What makes you think that savin' Bella and stoppin' Lilith are mutually exclusive endeavors? Lilith hold's Bella's contract. We kill her…"

"We void the contract. Yeah… okay. I like where this is going."

"Glad you approve, Sammy," Dean bit out, obviously pissed off. "Come on, Bella. We'll get there by nightfall if we leave now."

Adam had Dean's bag already. I rolled my eyes. Somebody was kissing up. "You're comin' back, right," he asked as Dean took his bag from him.

Dean ruffled his hair and I felt a stab of jealousy. "Yeah, kid. Of course I'm comin' back."

Once Dean and Bella were gone I looked at Dad. "You really think we can kill Lilith in time to save Bella?"

"No."

"But you said…"

"I said we'd work on it. And we will. But realistically… I don't think we're gonna make it."

"Dean thinks we might."

"Because he wants to." Dad gave me a sad smile. "Despite everything, I'm still the slayer of dragons and vanquisher of evil to him. Come on, boys. Let's get outta here. Victor's already checked us in at the next town."

* * *

_A/N:_

_Thank you all so much for being so very patient. Please accept my apologies for my (far too long) absence. I don't know why this chapter was so hard in coming. I hope whatever it was is over now. So enjoy!_

_Not yet, __**Samantha V**__. We'll have to see how long he's off the, uh, demon sauce._

_Hey, __**greendaypumpkin**__! Good to hear from you again! The Winchesters are all so much fun to write with their interactions. They're all so different and so much alike at the same time._

_Thanks so much for the review, __**ShortLILPunk**__. I hope this chapter is a good follow-up to the last._

_LOL, __**SlothKeeper**__. It's not too late for the angel to be adopted._

_The thing with Sammy, __**redgriffin7**__, is that he's often a douche. But you can't help loving him anyway. LOL… Sammy always redeems himself by being vulnerable, and desperate for his family's approval even though he goes about getting it in all the wrong ways._

_You nailed Dean's fear, __**rog457**__. He doesn't want to disappoint his father, who is still bigger than life to him. And also the best thing about him, his ability to get up, dust himself off and keep moving. John should have been able to figure out what to say. I kind of think he'd played the Stanford fight over and over in his head, constantly thinking of what he __**should**__ have said._

_Thank you so much, __**BranchSuper**__. I hope you continue to enjoy this 'verse! I'm horrible at mixing up certain words. I know the right ones… I just type the wrong ones and then see what I __**should**__ have typed rather than what I did type when I go back to review. Hopefully my new beta will help me out with that._

_Thanks for all the reviews, __**lotchness**__. I think I was just wigging out because this story wasn't get close to the amount of reviews that Lost did. I was afraid that people weren't enjoying it as much._

_-Angie_


	12. Hero Complex

**Hero Complex**

I could feel Bella studying me speculatively as I drove us up to the cabin my family used as a bolt hole. I knew what was on her mind, knew I couldn't avoid the subject any longer. If I were a braver man, I would have just told her what I knew she wanted to know. Instead, I waited for her to bring it up. Instead, I concentrated on driving. I like her car. It was fast and responsive, but it wasn't the Impala. It had been so damn long since I'd been behind the wheel of my girl, I was starting to feel like I'd never get to drive her again.

Finally Bela cleared her throat, breaking my thoughts just as I started to consider all the ways I could possibly get the Impala from Sam before he put a CD player in it or some shit. "So… you're a Winchester. You might have mentioned that at some point."

"I thought we had this discussion already." Yeah. Who said I was brave?

"No," she drew out the word, her tone light and playful. "I brought it up, and you distracted me with a kiss."

"Which, by the way, was hot." I gave her my most charming grin.

She laughed. "You are _incorrigible_."

"I try."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I let out a long sigh. I really didn't want to talk about this, and not just because it still hurt to remember what I'd done, what I'd given away, but because the due date for Bela's own deal was literally breathing down our throats. "It was part of my deal to make them forget me. So they wouldn't figure out what happened to me. I thought… it would be better that way. I couldn't go around telling people who I was when the people I was supposed to be related to didn't even know I existed."

"There's an idea. I wonder if it's too late to add an addendum to mine."

"That's not funny, Bela." My tone was sharper then I meant it to be… but the idea of Bela on the rack made my chest ache.

"I… I _know_. I'm…" she took a deep breath and slouched in her seat, laying her head against the back of it. "I'm not used to this whole relationship thing. I've never actually had one. I spent my entire adult life trying to avoid them. Until you."

"Why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not exactly your type."

"You're not? What's my 'type'?"

"I dunno. Some guy in a tux who drinks his martinis shaken not stirred."

"James Bond," she asked incredulously. "You think my type is _James Bond_?"

"Not necessarily James Bond… But somebody all smooth and sophisticated. A guy who'd take you to the opera and out to fancy restaurants that serve shit like caviar and truffles. Somebody who'd buy you a penthouse with 24 hour maid service."

"Smooth and sophisticated isn't all it's cracked up to be. Besides… I can afford my own caviar and truffles, thank you. I don't think I have a type. I had sex with men I found attractive and that was all. All I needed to do was be a total backstabbing, heartless bitch and that was enough to ward off any potential caring. I… I never wanted to love anyone. I never expected anyone to stick around after they found out about my past… definitely never expected anyone to try to _save_ me."

Yeah, some saving I was doing. I tried to give her my best cavalier smile. "That's me. Dean Winchester, knight in shining armor. The horse is black though. Black's way cooler."

She smirked at me. "You joke, but you are."

"But I couldn't…" I trailed off, the fact that I could do nothing to stop Bela from going to hell bitter in the back of my throat, gripping the steering wheel so hard my fingers were going white.

"No… because that's not possible," she laid a hand on my arm and I forced myself to relax. "But if it had been… if it had been you would have. I didn't really enjoy the last ten years. I want to enjoy the next two days. Just help me do that, okay? That's all I want."

"Yeah… yeah, I can do that."

* * *

We finally made it to the bed about four hours after arriving at the cabin. Dad had obviously sent someone here to do a little cleaning before we got here. Bela lay pressed against me, her head on my chest. "Did we miss anywhere?"

"Hmmm… the shower and the porch swing."

"The porch swing?" She looked up at me with a scandalized look that would have been funny considering some of the things we'd just done if it weren't so cute.

"Sure… it's not like anyone's around to see us. 'Sides the possibility of being caught always makes it better." I wiggled my eyebrows at her, grinning lecherously.

She sat up, clutching the sheet against her. "You, sir, are a scoundrel."

I snorted and nodded my head. "Oh, definitely."

"You know," she said as she let the sheet fall away and straddled me. "This place definitely needs a woman's touch."

Damn, she had a fine body. I ran a hand along her side and she shivered. I rolled us over and pinned her underneath me. "I don't plan on wastin' time watchin' you redecorate."

* * *

I wasn't stupid. I knew the odds were against Dad finding and killing Lilith before Bela's time was up. But I also knew that if anyone could do it, it was Dad. And he'd promised not to give up. He wanted me to be here, with Bela and I understood that. Even agreed with him that it was probably the best possible use of my time now, twenty eight hours before the deal was due. It didn't stop me from wondering if I could have helped tip the scales in her favor. Part of me felt that it was wrong not to keep fighting until the very last second. Instead, I was sitting on the porch swing with Bela leaning against me, a blanket wrapped around us against the growing chill. We really should have done the shower before the porch swing.

"Dean?"

Bela was looking up at me with a puzzled frown. I blinked at her for a second before realizing that I'd gotten lost in my thoughts again. "Tell me something about you."

"Like what?"

I buried my fingers in her hair. She had perfect, silky hair. "Whatever you want me to know."

"Hmmm… I was fifteen when I started looking for answers. Sixteen when I found the occult. The _real_ occult. The first time I realized that I could make a living and keep looking for answers at the same time was when a witch offered to tell me whatever she knew about deals if I brought her a certain object. Over the next six years, that's what I did. I traded things for money and information. Hoping to find the right leverage to get out of the deal, that maybe there was something valuable enough for me to trade for my own soul. Or a spell or an object that could break it altogether. I learned a lot, and what time I had was spent using everyone I met trying to learn more. And none of it did a damn bit of good. All the things I did, all the people I stabbed in the back…for nothing. Everything about my life has revolved around getting out of this damned deal. Until that's all I was anymore. The deal."

"You're more than that." I tilted her head up and kissed her forehead.

She laughed softly. "I wish that were true. You're the first person I've felt anything for in ten years. I turned myself to ice. Thought it would be better that way, thought if I just focused on it hard enough, I could get out of the deal and make up for it all later. But there's not going to be any later."

I held her tighter. "You can hear them right now, can't you?"

She nodded. Damn it, she had another day… demons were sadistic fuckers. "So… no hobbies?"

She laughed. "No."

"No friends?"

"Not till you."

"So… I'm your friend?"

"You're more than that… unless you don't want to be?"

"No… just making sure. Would you marry me?"

She laughed again, a little more sincerely this time. "Marry you?"

"Yeah. And have a houseful of Winchesters."

"A houseful," she asked incredulously.

"Yeah… I'm thinking something like six or seven. We could name the first one Buford."

She threw back her head and laughed. That was more like it. "Bu-_Buford_? I don't even know where to start with what's wrong with that name, but what if it's a _girl_?"

"Hmmm… that might get ugly at school. A girl named Buford."

"The only way we're having seven kids is if you give birth to four of them."

"So you'd have three?"

Her face crumbled. "Oh, Dean…"

"No… we're not gonna…" I took a deep breath and gave my best attempt at a smile. "So you'd have three?"

She took a deep breath and pulled herself together, laying her head on my shoulder. "Yeah. I'd have three," she said, her hand coming up to rest on my other shoulder. "Two beautiful people like us… we'd have gorgeous babies. God, you're not going to want a house with a white picket fence and a dog are you?"

"Nah… that's _Sammy_. I'm allergic to picket fences. I'd want… I'd want somethin' like this. Somewhere quiet and safe. Somewhere the kids can play and we can protect them." I kissed the top of her head. It was a nice dream. A dream both of us was never going to come true for either of us.

"I'd only move here if they build a Nordstrom's down the street."

* * *

"Dammit!" I threw one of the glasses from the table. The sound of it shattering against the wall brought Sam back into the dining room. A family of four was sitting around the table, throats slit. One child was missing, a little girl. Adam had turned green but refused to leave until I sent him upstairs to look for clues. This was starting to remind of the search for Sam when he'd gone missing.

"Dad?"

"That bitch is constantly one step ahead of us. Like she knows where we are. Damn bodies are still warm."

"How could she?"

"Those hex bags Ruby gave you… you know what's in 'em?"

"No… but why would she…"

"She's a _demon_, Sam," I gritted out through clenched teeth. "That's reason enough in my book. Get rid of 'em."

"But Dad-"

"No, Sam. If I find out I failed because that bitch put somethin' in those bags to warn Lilith when we were close, I will personally hunt her down and gut her with her own god damned knife."

Sam flushed. "It wasn't just you… we all failed."

"No… he loves you Sam. You and Adam. He sold his soul for you and I bet he'd do it all over again even now. But he counts on me to make all the monsters go away. And I failed."

"Dad, it was… it was a really long shot."

"Doesn't make it any less of a failure. Twenty minutes sooner and it wouldn't have been so damn long. I want you, Adam and Victor to go ahead to Louisiana. I'll meet you there."

"What's in Louisiana?"

"If we're lucky? A very important book."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn't ask any further questions about it. "You gonna get Dean?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna try to make it before the hounds come for Bela," I said as I headed for the door. "Watch out for your brother, Sam. Kid's got good instincts, but he's still as new a blade o' green grass and he's at least as stubborn as you are. Make sure you follow the book."

"Yes, sir."

I snorted as I left. One day that boy's going to remember everything, and all the snark will be right back in his tone. And he'd likely be pissed that I didn't pack Adam right up and ship him back off to Georgetown. The bitch of it was, I wish I could. Wish I could send Sammy back to Stanford, bring Jess back just like I wish I could keep Bela alive somehow. I wondered if Dean would have hated school so much if he hadn't seen it as useless in his goal to be a hunter. Maybe he would have been an engineer, like all his aptitude tests suggested. Or maybe he would have been a mechanic like me. Either way, I wish I could have given that to him too.

Lost in my thoughts, I found myself talking out loud as I drove. Actually, I was praying. For the first time that I could ever remember. It felt awkward, but I was desperate, and afraid that my son might be at the end of his rope. He finally gets to the point that, for the first time since he was raped, he could not just be with a woman again, but really feel _deeply_ for one… and now he's about to lose her.

"Alright, look. I'm not sure I ever believed in you. Not even before the fire, back when I was a naïve starry eyed clueless idiot. But there are angels and demons… and talk about Lucifer rising. So, I guess even a stubborn old fool like me has to admit that means you kind of have to be out there somewhere. I'm just askin' you, one father to another, give my kid a break. Just this once. I don't know how much more he can take before he can't get up again. And I can't keep watchin' him die a piece at a time. It's fuckin' killin' me. I don't know how to fix any of this shit for him." I closed my eyes tight for a second as tears stung them. "I'm tryin', but I don't know how."

* * *

My phone rang just as I pulled up in front of the cabin. It was ten minutes to midnight. I put the car in park and answered the phone with one hand on the door handle. "Winchester here."

"John?"

It was Bela, sounding out of breath and I could hear the sounds of a wooded area in the background. I froze, immediately alarmed. Where was Dean? "Bela? Where are you?"

"Somewhere not too far from the cabin… I left Dean there. I didn't want him to see…"

"How the hell'd you manage that?"

"I…" she laughed softly. "I drugged him. He'll be so _furious_…" she trailed off in a sob. "I can hear them," her voice was a whisper, made almost childish with the sheer terror in it. "They sound so close."

My mouth went dry. I knew what she was talking about. Dean had told me that she was already hearing the hounds sometimes at night, weeks before her deal was due. Like Lilith was playing with her. "Jesus. I'm sorry, Bela. I tried."

"It was already too late for me. But maybe not for Dean."

I took me half a second to realize that she didn't know Dean's ticket had already been punched. "I won't let anything happen to my boy. And if there's a way to get you back, we'll find it, Bela. I swear that to you."

"I see where Dean gets it from," she said, sounding amused even through her fear. "That damn hero complex. Always trying to save people. But you can't… you just can't save everyone. Are you there yet? At the cabin?"

"Yeah… I just pulled up."

"Good. I don't want him there alone. I left everything salted and warded… but still… So I guess this is goodbye."

"Not yet. You don't have to do this alone."

She made a small, strangled sound on the other end. "Yes I do."

That was true… I'd seen enough of death to know that no matter how many people are around, you always die alone. But I also knew that just having some sort of human contact could give comfort. "Bela? I'm here. Talk to me."

"I don't want to die. Oh God, listen to me. I wanted so to be _brave_."

"You are brave… you're one of the bravest people I've ever met." Most other people would have been hiding behind Dean right now. Not trying to protect him.

She laughed a little. "I'm a bitch… a lot of people would say I've earned this trip to hell the old fashioned way. If you weren't Dean's father, I'm sure you'd hate me too."

Her voice was trembling, and I could hear the hounds now. They were almost on her. "My son loves you… and no matter what he's gonna look for a way to get you back. And I'm gonna do everything I can to help him. We will never give up on you. No matter what they say to you, believe that."

I sat parked in front of the cabin with the phone pressed to my ear long after her screams died away. Until everything on the other end was silent. She was gone. My son had loved her and now she was gone. God damn it if we didn't have the worst fucking luck.

When I entered the cabin, it was dead quite. It was salted and warded, just as Bela said it would be, and Dean sat sprawled at the small table. He was fully dressed, a glass of whiskey in front of him. I checked to make sure his breathing and heartbeat were fine and sighed.

"You're too old for me to be carryin' you around, kid," I groused as I manhandled him into a fireman's carry and got him down the hall to the bed. I dragged a chair in from the kitchen and sat next to the bed, waiting for my son to wake up. I smoothed back Dean's hair. He always looked so young when he slept. Like he didn't have a care in the world. I was thankful that Bela had spared him the trauma of watching her die. Now all I had to do was get him to let me find her and prepare her for burial alone. Yeah, that's gonna be a piece of cake. I sighed and dragged my nails through my beard. "How do we managed to get ourselves into this kinda shit, kiddo?"

* * *

_A/N: Hey! I meant to get this to you all earlier, but I took a break for my birthday. Poor Bela… I really did love her… I know most fans hated her because she was a bitch to the boys, but the minute I realized that she had a deal too and it was due, and why she had a deal, it all clicked for me. She was desperate._

_No, __**lotchness**__, I'm not letting Dean's rape fade away at all. He's still mending from it and he's still got a way to go. He's just not gonna sit around and talk it out all the time. That's not his way. He's still a Winchester, after all. It's subtle things… like the fact that Bela was the first woman he's been intimate with in years (two in our world, 42 in Dean's head), and that he got so attached to her afterwards. That's the whole reason John encouraged him to spend Bela's last few hours with her. The rape is still effecting Dean in terms of his reactions and decisions._

_Yeah, __**ShortLILPunk**__, Sam can't help being jealous. The demons can change their memories, but they couldn't do anything with their emotions. He's still emotionally tied to Dean even though he doesn't understand it._

_Bela's still a bitch, .__**Dakotta**__., just not to Dean and, by extension, his family. LOL… And yes, jealous!Sam is awesome._

_Sorry, __**Lita of Jupiter**__, Bela had to die. But with two determined Winchesters trying to get her out, who knows what'll happen? I'm kinda lovin' the chemistry between all four Winchester men._

_Yes, Adam and Sam are adorable, aren't they __**SlothKeeper**__? They're both going to have big adjustments to make in their newly reshaped family unit. And Meg has some really big shoes to fill, taking over her father's role as evil genius._

_Thanks, __**regriffin7**__! Good to be back! Yeah… I cringed when I watched the Sam/Ruby scene and every time they implied that they'd had sex afterwards. Just squicks me every time. I choose to think of Sam's whiney bitch-ness and his verbal diarrhea as part of his charm. LOL. It helps when I get the urge to smack him._

_While I agree with you that Dean's presence mitigated the degree to which Sam depended on John, __**rog457**__, I think Sam kind of sees John the same way Dean does – as bigger than life and able to make just about anything better. Dean wasn't the only one who fell apart when John died. I think the difference is that where Sam sees John as being unnecessarily controlling, Dean sees John as being protective – someone he can trust to take some of the weight so everything isn't on his shoulders alone. That's just one of many differences in the way they view John, but I think it's the biggest in this instance._

_Dean gets all the best lines, __**LuckyMe1**__. Thanks so much for sticking with me!_

_-Angie_


	13. Broken Seals and Abominations

**Breaking Seals and Abominations**

Dean stirred slowly at first, then froze for an instant before bursting into a flurry of movement. I stood up, feeling every second of my age as my knee crackled.

"Dean-"

"Where's Bela?"

"She's gone, Dean."

He froze, his brow furrowed, and sat back down on the bed as what I said sunk in. Finally, he dropped his head in his hands, elbows braced against his thighs. "She's… dead?" His voice was muffled, but I could still hear the hopelessness in it.

"Yeah. I'm sorry son."

"She's dead." He dropped his hands from his face, but didn't look up at me. "What the hell happened? I was… we were dressed, she wanted to have a drink…"

"She drugged you, so you wouldn't have to watch."

"So she… so, she died _alone_?" Dean looked up at me then, his eyes large and I wanted to look away but I refused to allow myself to.

"Everybody dies alone, son. But she called me and I talked to her until…" Until they started tearing her apart. Until all she could do is scream. A shudder ran down my back. But still, I didn't look away. "She was a brave woman, Dean."

"Bravery's not worth a damn in Hell, Dad. Did you…" I heard him swallow. "Did you take care of her?"

"No… I wanted to wait until you woke up."

"Okay." He started to get back up and I pushed him down with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa there kiddo. I think you should give me time to… get her ready."

"But Dad-"

"No, Dean. She didn't want you to see her like that."

"You think what she looks like matters to me? She's not… she's not in her body anymore. They're gonna turn her into a demon, Dad. They're gonna torture her and twist her 'till she's not human anymore."

"Then we just have to figure out a way to get her out. You got out, so it's possible."

Dean looked at the window, at the evidence of the dawn breaking. "It's been hours here, but it's been fucking weeks… _months_ there. I wonder if Alistair has her." A shudder ran through his body even though he sounded detached. Boy was in shock. "Castiel wouldn't save her. I asked already. I begged. But that fucking son of a bitch said his _orders_…" He spit the last word out bitterly and just stopped talking. Just sat there staring out the window and I felt my stomach hollow out. Silent Dean was a traumatized Dean.

I left the room to find a fresh bottle of whiskey and two glasses. I poured Dean a double and handed it to him, had to wrap my hand around his because he was shaking so damn hard.

"Take it easy, kiddo," I said soothingly as I tried to make sure he didn't choke on the alcohol. Once he was done I put the glass down. "Dean?"

He didn't respond, so I tilted his head to look in his eyes. They were empty and it scared the hell out of me. I hadn't seen that vacant look since… since right after Sam was possessed. "Deano…"

"I don't know how to do this, Dad," he finally said, his voice quiet and hollow.

It reminded me of the night of the fire. Sitting on the car with my boys and watching the fire burn out of control, knowing I'd never see Mary again and wondering what I was going to do without her. How I was going to raise our boys, how I was ever going to make peace with what happened, how I was ever even going to understand it. "Nobody does. We'll take care of Bela and then we figure out a way to get her back."

He dropped his gaze and frowned like he was thinking it over, then he nodded.

"Okay. I'll get her ready, and then… we'll talk afterwards."

"Yeah."

* * *

It didn't take long for me to track Bela to the little clearing in the woods surrounding the cabin that she'd walked too. I knew what I'd find, but part of me had been hoping that somehow she'd still be alive. I dropped the bag I was holding with the clean clothes, bottled water and rags I'd brought with me. The hounds had torn ripped up her chest and neck, and I was grateful all over again that Dean hadn't seen this.

Death was something we were both was used to, but it was always different with someone you cared about. I tried not to think about Dean dying in my arms. I took a deep breath and began pulling off what was left of her clothing. I wiped the blood off the undamaged areas of her body and taped pieces of one of the thin waterproof tarps that I kept in my truck to the damaged areas. Then I dressed her. A black silk turtle neck, a clean pair of jeans and the buck skin jacket that Dean said had been her favorite. I even rinsed the blood out of her hair and combed it. When I was finished she looked more like she was asleep than anything else. Except for how pale she was and a few shallow scratches on the side of her face. There wasn't anything I could do about that. I stuffed the ruined clothes and bloody rags into the duffle, destroyed all the evidence left on the ground of the attack and waited for Dean.

He already had an arm full of dry wood when he arrived in the clearing. He wouldn't look down at Bela's body. Instead, he stopped in the middle of the clearing several feet away.

"Here, Dad?"

"Yeah. Good a place as any."

We built the funeral pyre in silence. When it was time to place Bela on it, I was surprised when Dean insisted on doing it himself. He lifted her gently, laying her down on the wood and smoothing out her hair. He stood there staring down at her and crying silently for a few minutes. Saying goodbye. Finally, he backed away and nodded his head.

"Okay," he breathed out, trying not to sob. "Okay, Dad."

Last rights, blessing the body – all of that was futile. She was already in Hell. Short of making sure nothing could use her body, there was nothing else we could do to honor her.

"There anything you wanna say first?"

He shook his head. "Said everything that needed sayin'."

"That's good son. Most people don't get that chance." I lit the torch and held it out to him. He took it in a tight grip, and stared at the flame for a second before touching it to the pyre. It went up quick and burned bright the way it was supposed to. We stood watching it for a long while, till there was nothing left but glowing ash.

"Dad, would it be okay if I… if I buried her in Kansas? With Mom?"

"Yeah, son. Mary'd be honored." I squeezed my boy's shoulder.

* * *

"How?"

I glanced at Dean. His voice, raw and thin, had surprised me. We'd stopped in a diner on our way to meet up with the other boys so I could try to force a little food into my oldest. Dean hadn't wanted to stay at the cabin after we'd taken care of Bela and gathered her ashes. "How what?"

"You said we were gonna work on gettin' Bela out of Hell. How?"

"Don't know yet, son. But I'm not givin' up."

"Me either."

"Good."

"So, where are we goin'?"

"After we leave Stole, we're headin' south to meet the boys. I found the book."

"The book? You mean the one that had us tearing each other apart within an hour?"

"Yeah. I've already got a hex box just for it in the truck. But we need it. We can use it to stop Lilith from raising Lucifer."

"Yeah, okay. But for the record? I hate that damn book."

I could almost think that he was okay. If he actually ate more than a few mouthfuls, or didn't lapse into long silences, or seem a little disconnected when he did speak. But he did do all those things and I knew my boy well enough that he was just putting one foot in front of the other because it was the only thing he could do. Made me proud as hell and want to scream my lungs out at the same time.

"I hate it too, kiddo."

"We gonna make Bobby run the gauntlet again?"

I snorted. "Bobby doesn't even remember doing it the first time, and he never explained it to me. Shoulda got him to. Just in case. Now we gotta start all over again, from scratch, to figure it out."

"Bobby doesn't remember me," he said in the same flat tone that he'd been using all day.

"Not yet."

Dean was silent for the rest of the day, only speaking when I asked him a direct question.

* * *

Castiel and another angel named Uriel had just appeared in the middle of the hotel room where I was running through the details of where the book was and how we were going to go about getting it back. I hadn't seen Dean this animated since Bela's death. Whatever he decided, I was more than willing to back his play. Castiel was obviously a self-serving jerk, and Uriel was a prick if ever I saw one. Sammy was ecstatic, stumbling over himself at the sight of real angels. Victor stood wearily watching everyone, his hand on his gun. Adam just gawked from where he stood behind me, poor kid too new to all this to do much of anything useful.

Uriel walked up to Sam and looked him up and down. "So this is the abomination?"

Sam blinked and shrunk away, looking shocked and hurt. Dean growled low in his throat and I made a mental note to figure out how to kill an angel. If you could kill a demon, then there had to be a way to kill an angel. I didn't like the way the bastard was looking at my boy, especially after what Castiel said about Sam the last time we'd seen him.

"Get the hell away from my son," I said calmly.

Uriel turned his condescending gaze on me and smiled patronizingly. "You mud monkeys always did think you were important. Always trying to take control of things."

"Uriel!" Castiel came as close to a bark as I suspected he ever did, which wasn't close at all. "We have business."

Uriel sighed and returned to his original spot beside the other angel. Castiel turned to Dean, his expression earnest.

"We need your help, Dean."

"Of course you do. Everything's all about what you need." Dean's voice was hard and bitter. And I can't say that I blamed him. I was feeling a little bitter myself. Bela's screams haunted me. She was just one person… they could have spared her, especially if they wanted Dean's help so badly.

"There aren't many seals left to be broken before Lucifer rises, Dean. Many of my brothers and sisters have died trying to preserve them."

"You know what you can do with your seals, Cas? You can shove them right up your God damned ass!"

Uriel snorted. "I told you this was unnecessary. Let's just go do what we came down here to do."

Castiel gave Dean a pained look, ignoring Uriel. "I know you're angry because we couldn't save Bela-"

"Don't you mean _wouldn't_?"

"We can only do that when we have orders… there was nothing I could do." Dean scoffed, but the angel kept speaking. "But Uriel was sent to destroy the city. The only other option is if you stop Lilith from breaking the seal."

Dean stared at him incredulously. "What? You mean, as in _Sodom and Gomorra_ destroy?"

Uriel smiled at Dean and I took an instinctive step forward. "Funny you should mention that… some of my best work."

"No!"

"What?"

"No… you're not gonna kill all those people. There are women and children… there are _innocent people _there."

"So, you'll stop them from raising Samhein," Castiel asked, looking strangely hopeful.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed out a breath. "Yeah. I'll stop them."

"_We'll_ stop them," I corrected, but they were already gone, along with my son. "Son of a bitch!"

"What the fuck?" Sam blinked at the empty space where his brother had stood only a second before.

"Change of plans," I growled out as I grabbed Dean's bag along with my own. "Adam, you're with me. Come on boys. We've got less twelve hours to get to a city that's almost a day away."

"He's gonna be okay, right Dad?" Adam was looking at me with a wide eyed, panicky look.

"He'll be fine. Dean's the best hunter I know. He can hold his own till we get there." And I hoped like hell I wasn't lying to the boy.

_

* * *

_

A/N: Alright, people. I apologize for how long this took. It wasn't writer's block this time. It was actually how freaking painful it was to write. Dudes… I need the trickster or something to lighten things up. I kinda fudged some dates here. Bela actually died in April of '08. So I moved the date of Bela's death back to November of '08. My rational for moving Bela's death back several months is that it fits dramatically and it's the only way for a Dean/Bela romance to take place.

_Thanks __**ShortLILPunk**__! Dean/Bela have the whole star crossed lover thing goin' on. I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter._

_Bela is the nicest bitch ever, .__**Dakotta**__. Thanks for the compliment! I still say I want to write like Jane Austin when I grow up. Just the way she was able to make her characters real, and give them human motivations and failings. No matter what the plot was, he characters were always real and vivid._

_Glad you're enjoying it so far, __**moira4eku**__! A lot of characters, I think, got shafted in the series. John, who depending on the day is either awesome enough to be compared with God or the worst father in the history of fathers. Adam who got stuck in hell with Lucifer along with Michael (talk about getting the shaft) and Sam. Pastor Jim, who didn't even get an honorable mention when the boy's ended up in Blue Earth and with the church of hunters (they so should have made that Pastor Jim's church, and the pastor his successor, even his pupil in all things supernatural). Just so many things got dropped or outright screwed up it hurts my heart to think about it sometimes._

_Thanks, __**SlothKeeper**__. I think the depths to which Bela came to love Dean had a lot to do with the fact that for ten years, maybe longer, she hadn't allowed herself to love anyone. So when she finally did, she couldn't quite hold back. Like the first time you ever taste sugar._

_I think that's the real story of John Winchester, __**rog457**__. He's just a desperate father. No matter how often or spectacularly he screws up, he just gets right back up and keeps trying. In that way, Dean is just like him._

_I'm glad I was able to make you care, __**lace and silk**__. Bela was a tragically flawed character and so much more could have been done with her. My birthday was very nice._

_Happy you enjoyed the last chapter, __**redgriffin7**__. In any story there are characters that you can count on to do what they feel is the right thing no matter how hard it is or what the personal cost may be or how few people agree that it's the right thing. And they do it without complaint or any expectation of repayment, recognition, or reward. John is just one of those characters._

_That's alright, __**greendaypumpkin**__. I haven't posted in a while! Hope you enjoy this chapter._

_-Angie_


	14. Thirteen

**Thirteen**

"They are not coming."

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Castiel's voice coming from right behind my left shoulder. "_Son of a bitch_! What have I told you about sneaking up on me?"

"I am sorry. It was not my intention to-"

"It's never your fucking intention, but you just keep right on doin' it anyway." I sighed. "Why aren't they coming?"

"The roadhouse is under siege by demons."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"If you're not here to help then you can just leave now."

Castiel tilted his head. "What do you require?"

I blinked at him. What the hell does that mean? "Anything?"

"I have been ordered to do whatever you say during this assignment."

"Get Bela outta Hell."

Castiel's eyes went comically wide. "I cannot resurrect her."

"But you can set her _free_, right?"

Castiel blinked again and frowned. "I fail to see how that has any bearing on what happens here."

"Well, let me explain it to ya, Cas. We human beings? We have these things called emotions, and I can't turn them off when you snap your fingers. Someone I care about is in Hell right now being tortured and not a second goes by when I'm not picturing what's happening to her because, unfortunately, I have firsthand experience. I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can't keep goin' like this."

"I will return as soon as it is done."

Then he was gone with a _swoosh_ of air and the sound of wings. I sat down, suddenly no strength left in my legs. "Okay," I said to the empty room. That was almost too damn easy. "Okay."

* * *

I worked the case on autopilot. Until, that is, I met the victims' wife. Her grief nearly made me shut down. I'd been trying not to think about Bela, trying not to get my hopes up that Castiel would really save her and not come back with some lame ass excuse about why, on second thought, it was impossible. Trying not to worry about Sam and his kid. But I managed to keep going, kept working the case by the numbers. It was the only thing that I could do to make sure more people didn't die. Besides, if I stopped, I didn't think I'd be able to move again. I found a hex bag in the kitchen. A witch. I fucking hate witches.

I wished that Sammy was here, he was so much better at figuring out a hex bag than I was. Instead of even trying I concentrated on the end of things that I was best at. I need to find out who had access to the house. I had Mrs. Wallace make me a list of all the people that had who she knew had been inside over the past two weeks.

I was running down the people with access to the Wallace home when I heard about the latest murder. A girl being boiled alive while bobbing for apples. Oh yeah… Halloween was just a fucking barrel of monkeys. At the crime scene, the first girl who'd bobbed for apples was on the list that Mrs. Wallace gave me. I asked her if she knew the Wallaces and she told me she didn't. But the odds of two different girls with the same name being involved with two of the victims? Somewhere between zero and zilch.

So I decided to followed Tracy and hope that she hadn't had time to leave a hex bag for her final victim. And even if she had, there was probably still some ritual that she needed to perform in order to actually raise Samhain.

* * *

"Hello, Dean."

I barely kept myself from screaming like a girl when Castiel appeared next to me on the passenger side of the Impala's front bench seat. "So?" He tilted his head at me like he was waiting for the rest of the sentence. "Bela… did you get her?"

"Yes. That is why I left. Those were your orders?"

"Yeah, those were my orders. So she's not…"

"She is in Heaven. I sent her towards the light."

I sagged against the seat, relief bringing sudden tears to my eyes. I blinked them back. I didn't have time to fall apart right now, and I definitely didn't want to do it in front of Castiel. "Thank you."

"I was merely following orders. I told her that you sent me, and she laughed. She said she should have known if anyone could find a way it would be you. I have come to see if you have any further orders."

I blinked at him for a second. "I might need some back up. Witches are… tricky."

* * *

Okay, so… the witch wasn't working alone. What the hell had evil come to when it started being self-sacrificing? It was like all of a sudden, all the rules were turned upside down with evil willing to die for its principles and goals and good trying to hold on to life by its damn teeth.

"Cas, don't worry about me! Stop the bitch!"

Cas tilted his head and frowned at me before waving his hand at the witch. She dropped and just lay there… like she had just fallen asleep. Then he turned his attention back to me. "You are uninjured?"

I snorted as I slowly stood to my feet. "Uninjured enough. Is she…" I made a vague gesture at the witch.

"She is sleeping."

I sighed. "Dude! We don't leave homicidal witches alive, _especially_ not the kind that try to raise ancient blood thirsty demons for chuckles."

I tied up and gagged Tracy. I had no problem putting one in her brain myself, but I needed to make sure that we'd stopped everything first. Castiel and I waited until sunrise, ignoring Tracy's struggling when she came to. Nothing happened and we both finally breathed a long sigh of relief. The only thing left to do was take care of Tracy. I hated killing witches, always had. They were just as evil as any shifter or werewolf, but they were unfortunately one hundred percent human. Well, usually. I sent Cas outside.

I put my gun to her head. "When you get to hell? Tell Alastair I said hi." I barely felt a thing when I squeezed the trigger. That scared the hell out of me. I found Castiel waiting for me outside.

"You stopped it," Castiel stated, almost sounding awed.

"Yeah, barely. Wouldn't have if you hadn't been there. So do I get some sort of prize?"

"There are only twelve more seals that need to be broken."

"Wait a minute… I thought there were only sixty six seals."

"Lilith only needs to break sixty six. There are six hundred and sixty six possibilities. Any sixty six of them is sufficient. She is breaking them at a rate of two a day."

"Damn… Why the fuck are there so many? Do the freakin' powers that be _want_ Luci sprung?" We could win nine out of every ten battles for a seal… and we'd still come up with the short end of the stick. What the hell kinda odds were those? It was like going all in on a pair of twos.

Castiel sighed and looked almost human for a moment. "Sometimes… sometimes I lose faith. My brothers are dying by the _hundreds_ trying to stop these seals from being broken and still they break. There are over four hundred left to try."

"Four _hundred_? And only sixteen before Lucifer's free? Hate to tell you this, but maybe you need to a different strategy."

"Some in Heaven think that we should not try to stop the Apocalypse. They think we need to simply focus on winning it."

I frowned at him. There was nothing I'd ever read about the Apocalypse that sounded even remotely like a win. "And what the hell happens to us?"

"Us?"

"_Humans_, Cas. What happens to us?"

Cas gave me this look like he was about to give me the best news ever. "All the humans who survive it will live forever in a world remade."

"Who _survive_?"

"Most would die. We estimate only about ten percent of you would be left. The world would be devastated and would need to be… repaired for life to continue. But that's if we win. I doubt Lucifer will be so benevolent if we lose. It was his jealousy of humanity that caused his rebellion in the beginning."

"Only ten percent live if you _win_?" This was sounding more and more like a nightmare. "You're talking about _billions_ of innocent people dying. In a fight that's not even _theirs_."

"There may be no other choice."

"There's always another choice, Cas. You just have to find it."

* * *

I had to have left at least a dozen messages for everyone in my family and I was starting to freak as I headed for the roadhouse. It was bad enough that I just found out that the world would still get trashed, even if the so-called good guys won the big smack down with the devil. My entire god damned family had to suddenly go MIA too.

I was about four hours away from the roadhouse when I finally got a call back. It was Adam. I answered the phone, trying to prepare for the worst. I was so fucking numb that I wasn't sure that I could feel it if the worst did happen. "What the hell's goin' on, kid?"

"It's not good, Dean."

I pulled off the side of the road. "Is… did someone die?"

"Ellen and a couple of the hunters who were here. The demons were already inside when we got here. They were torturing people, Dean. I've never… Sam disappeared and Dad went to find him. He killed them."

"What? Kid, take a deep breath. Who killed who?"

"Sam killed the demons… he… he was covered in blood and he was… Dean, the ones that didn't die right away, they ran and he just stood there picked them off one by one. Dad freaked out, started yelling about demon blood and turning into a monster. And Sam… Sam threw him across the room."

"He did what?"

"Without touching him, Dean! Then he looked scared and threw up. It was brownish red, Dean. Like blood. And then he took Jo and the baby and just left."

"Dad… how's Dad?"

"He's… physically, I think he's fine. But… there were dozens of bodies, Dean. We had to drag the ones outside back into the roadhouse and salt and burn 'em. Dad's been runnin' down leads on where Sam is, but he's been hittin' the bottle really hard for the past two days. I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls… I just… I didn't know what to tell you. Everything's so fucked up, man. Dad listens to all your messages over and over, but I don't think he knows what to say either. I think he feels guilty."

"Guilty?"

"He keeps mumbling shit about losing Sam. How he's afraid how you'll take it after… everything."

"Where are you?"

* * *

Dad was a lot closer then the roadhouse and I'd actually overshot his location by about 20 minutes. I spent that time trying to get through to Sam. Damn kid was always running away. I cursed under my breath when I got his voicemail for the fifth time in a row since I'd spoken to Adam. I'd dumped the car I'd 'borrowed' across town from the hotel the kid said they were staying at and the cab I'd taken to the hotel pulled up. I pulled out a twenty and told the driver to keep the change as I got out.

"Sammy… you fucked up. I get that. But don't do this man. We can work this out." I hung feeling frustrated. Sam didn't even remember me, and even when he did he almost never listened. So why the hell would he listen now?

I knocked on the door and heard movement inside. After a few seconds Adam opened the door. The poor kid looked like he'd been through the wringer. I was sure he had. Dad was never a picnic when he was in full alert mode, and especially not when it was coupled with heavy drinking. Heavy drinking meant Dad was freaked and that meant a short temper. Not that any of us ever had a long one. I patted the kid on the shoulder as I passed him. Dad was sitting at the little rinky table, staring at his journal like it held the secrets of the universe if he could only decipher it.

"Hey, Dad."

He blinked up at me like it took him a second to recognize. It had been a long time since I'd seen him like this. "Dean. You good, son? Anything need lookin' at?"

"Nah. I'm good."

"I'm sorry we couldn't make out to help you with the Samhain thing. I'm glad to hear you got it done."

"Yeah. Castiel helped."

Dad raised an eyebrow at that. "That so? Nice of him to finally lend a hand."

"I got him to get Bela outta Hell, Dad."

"So… is she with you?"

"No. She's still… he said she was in Heaven."

"Well, that's better, right?"

"Yeah. That's a hell of a lot better." I sat down next to him and he looked back down at his journal.

"I'm glad she's not there anymore, son. Adam told you about Sam?"

"Yeah. Did… are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a little bruised. God, Dean. The _look_ in his eyes. I thought he was gonna…"

"Sammy would never hurt you, Dad."

"There's a lot of things that I never thought Sammy'd do that I watched him do two nights ago, Dean. He wasn't Sammy for a few minutes there Dean. I don't know who he was… but he wasn't…"

None of this was making sense. "But, Dad… I don't understand any of this. How could Sammy do what Adam said he did? I know he had dreams and moved a freaking piece of _furniture_ once. That's not even close to killing demons and throwing you across the room."

"I caught him…" Dad stopped and rubbed his beard, his eyes closing for a few seconds. Then he cleared his throat. "Sam got to the roadhouse first. Victor told me he's circled around."

"He circled around? Alone?"

"Yeah. Exactly. I went around back to find him. I found him alright… He was… Dean, he was _drinking_ demon blood."

"What do you mean, drinking demon blood?"

"He was draining some possessed man alive. Before he killed the demon in it. The poor bastard was still alive. Not for long, though. Not with his damn throat ripped open like that."

"So you're sayin'… you're sayin' Sammy can kill demons? What? With his mind?"

"That's exactly what I'm sayin', Dean. They fuckin' light up just like with the Colt. I tried to get him to stop, to think about what he was doin' but he went inside and… it was the scariest thing I ever saw, Dean." Dad's eyes finally met mine and a chill ran through me. This was not good. "And I seen some shit, boy."

"_Sammy_ scared you? The guy who cried during _Bambi _when he was fifteen?"

"Made my blood run cold."

"So he just…" I made a gesture.

"Yeah. Into fucking thin air. Now my boy's out there alone." He rubbed his eyes and I noticed the dark circles around them for the first time. "I dunno, Dean. Maybe I shoulda just kept my damn mouth shut. I mean… if it had been you or Sammy in there, what would I have done? I'm capable of pulling some truly bad shit to protect the two of you."

"I was there for a lot of it. You have _lines_, Dad."

Dad snorted softly. "I'm not so sure about that, son. That demon bitch he was with that night was there."

"What the fuck was she doing there?"

"She claimed she heard about what was happening and came to help protect the baby. But evil… evil has _reasons_, Dean. There are no coincidences. First we catch Sam with her, talk him into staying away. Then suddenly demons attack the roadhouse, attack his _son_ and they just… _stay there_ long enough for us to get there. They killed a few people sure, but why didn't they just do whatever they came for and get outta dodge? That's the pattern with demons. That's what they _do_. Why would they break pattern? Unless…"

I squinted at Dad, a sick feeling in my stomach as I followed his train of thought. "Unless they didn't. Unless what they came there to do was to get Sam to finish doing whatever it is Ruby wants him to do."

"He says he's going after Lilith, Dean. We need to find him. Or find her. But we gotta do one or the other and we gotta do it soon. Soon as Victor gets back from the supply run, we're goin' after that damned book."

* * *

_A/N: Yeah… I know I've been gone a while. Again. I'm so sorry. Please just don't hurt me…_

_Thanks, ShortLILPunk. I'm so glad that you're still enjoying the story._

_Hopefully we'll get back to it on the show, lace and silk. I love John's POVs mostly because he's so self-contained that you rarely see inside his head otherwise._

_Thank you, greendaypumpkin! No, he hasn't gotten over it so much as he can only deal with so much at a time._

_I know, rog457. But don't worry. I'm not gonna completely break my Dean. I love him too much._

_-Angie_


	15. Saving the World

**Saving the World**

I was no stranger to squatting. We did it too many times to count when I was growing up and it wasn't something I remembered with fondness. Not much about my childhood was remembered with fondness. In fact, only four years of my life were really actually happy. This war had destroyed that, had destroyed everything that I cared about. And now, here I was squatting in abandoned houses again. Only this time, I didn't even have my family. I kept replaying the way my father had looked at me in the roadhouse earlier. The whole thing had been a nightmare, but that look had been the worst thing about it.

I sat at the old, scarred kitchen table staring at one of the newspapers that was scattered on it and throughout the room. I wasn't really reading it. That would have taken concentration. Focus.

"Sam?"

I didn't look up from the page when I heard Ruby's voice. She sounded worried. She sounded like that a lot lately. "'M a rapist."

"You? Please."

"It must have been the…" I stopped and gritted my teeth, my stomach rolling. I pushed it away, not willing to figure out just what was causing the nausea. There were so many reasons right now. "It must have been the blood. I remember everything. Dean, what happened to him… what I did to him. What I did to Jo. I raped her. That's how she got pregnant."

"What the hell are you talking about? You'd never do anything like that."

"I was possessed. That bitch made me kill people. Made me _watch _while she used me to torture children to death. I can still hear them screaming. I remember what their blood felt like on my hands and soaking my clothes."

Ruby knelt down beside me and cupped my face, turning my head to face her. "It wasn't you, Sam."

My stomach rolled again and lurched to the side just in time to heave whatever was left in my stomach. Mostly blood. "It was me that killed all those people, that threw my father across the room. That was me."

"They were possessed, after your son. You had to protect him."

"The way Dad looked at me… and I… I could have _killed _him. I could have killed my own…"

"You _didn't_. You _stopped_. In a few more weeks, you'll have more control."

"He hates me now."

"Sam… he might not understand, but he will. When you destroy Lilith. When you make everything right. He'll be proud of you."

"No, he won't. 'M a murderer and a rapist. 'M a monster now. He said so."

"You were _possessed_, Sam."

"I wasn't possessed last night, and I wasn't possessed when I killed Gordon Walker."

"You had no choice either time. You killed Walker to save your father, and you killed those people last night to save your son. John would have done the same thing and once Lilith is dead he'll be proud of you. He'll see how strong you are, how important you are. You'll be a hero. You'll be the one who saved the world."

"All I have is your word for that."

"No you don't. What you did tonight… it was magnificent. You know the kind of power you have locked in you."

"The angels think Dean will save the world."

She snorted and kneeled next to me, turning my head to face her. "Do you think he can? Do you think he can top what you did tonight? Do you think he's strong enough?"

I started shaking so hard now that I couldn't sit up. I slid sideways into her arms. I needed blood. She rocked me like a baby, fed me from a vein in her arm until I was okay enough to fall asleep.

* * *

Ruby paced the length of the office in the back of the abandoned warehouse nervously. "I think we may have pushed him too hard."

I glared at her. "You said it yourself. It was the only way to get him back in the game. Now he's in. Firmly under your control and separated from his family. I'd call that a win-win."

"Sam's never completely under control. He's always thinking too much."

"Then you'd better find a way to make sure he comes to the right conclusions."

Ruby stopped pacing and stared at me, arms folded. "That's not what I'm worried about. Smart as he is, he can easily be lead, as long as he thinks he's the center of everything. The problem is he's losing it. You should have seen him. What if he falls apart before it's time?"

"Well you damn well better find a way to make sure he doesn't. Whatever you need to do, do it. You lost him in the first place, Ruby. Make this right. Or would you like a reminder of what will happen if you fail?"

She drew a deep breath and narrowed her eyes at me for a second before hiding her anger. "No. I just need you to understand what I'm dealing with here."

"Fine… I understand. Happy now?" I raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge me.

"Overjoyed," she bit out.

"Good," I turned my back on her, dismissing her. "Now be a good little demon and run along and take care of Sammy."

* * *

I slept for nearly two days, if my cell phone was anything to go by, and when I woke up Ruby was gone. But she'd left food for us. The taste of blood was still strong in my mouth. Blood and sulfur. Ruby had given me more blood. I knew that I should be concerned about the way my body reacted when I went too long without it, or when I threw it up like I did two days ago, but I couldn't worry about that. Ruby was right. Dean wasn't strong enough to do what had to be done. If I had to sacrifice myself to stop Lilith, so be it. My family would never be safe until Lilith was stopped. I was the only one who could stop her. I owed it to Dean, to my father, to Jo and especially to my son. Maybe… maybe once it was all over, my dad would finally be proud of me.

I cleaned myself up and ventured out of the room I'd been sleeping in and stood in the doorway of the room I'd given Jo. The nearer I got to her, the sicker I felt to my stomach. Like I was violating her just be being this close. She didn't remember, thank God for small favors. But I did. Every time I closed my eyes it all came back like it was yesterday. The possession, what I'd done at the roadhouse. All mixed up together in one horrifying loop in my head. I was cursed. But at least I could use that for a good purpose. At least I focus it on something besides hurting everyone around me.

Jo sat huddled on her bed, the baby asleep about a foot away on the bed. She didn't respond to my presence, but she was obviously taking care of Isaiah. She'd been traumatized by whatever had happened in the roadhouse before I arrived. I'm sure the things that I did when I got there didn't help her, though.

"Sam?"

I looked up to see Ruby standing at the end of the hall near the stairs. I took one more look at Jo and Isaiah before going over to see what she wanted.

"I found out why they were after your son."

I frowned at her. "I thought it was just to get to me, right?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. Ever heard to the antichrist?"

Twenty minutes later, I sat at the kitchen table with a fifth of scotch. My gut was churning, alcohol and demon blood apparently didn't mix with finding out your kid was a powerful pawn in the war between good and evil. If this is how Dad felt, it was no wonder he used to drink so much. "So whoever controls Isaiah…"

"Wins the war," Ruby said simply, as if any of this was that easy.

"He's just a _baby_," I said, my heart racing. "_My_ baby!"

"That's why it's so important to them get to him now. Whatever he's taught, whatever he believes… it _literally_ becomes reality."

My stomach was threatening to revolt again. "No pressure there."

"The angels, though, just want to kill him."

"What?" I started to say that couldn't be true, but I thought back to my encounter with Uriel. To being called an abomination and the way he looked at me like I was nothing. If he felt that way about me over a little demon blood, how would he feel about a baby that was half demon? "But… why would they destroy someone so powerful? I mean, if they can get him on their side, he would win the war for them."

"Because he's too powerful and too unpredictable. He could decide that he doesn't like them and _poof_, they're just gone. But soon? You'll be strong enough to protect him even from them. We just need to make sure you both stay hidden until then. And that you keep practicing until you get strong enough."

I closed my eyes. I had demons on one side wanting to use my son as some sort of doomsday device and the angels on the other who wanted to kill him. I had to make sure neither side got their hands on him, had to protect him. From everyone. "Okay. I just… I need to make sure my family's okay. Especially Dean."

"You can't contact them, Sam. I thought you understood that. Dean's… he's a tool of the angels."

"No, he's not. If he's anybody's tool, it's Dad's. He's like the poster child for being a good soldier, but Dad's the only C.O. he'll follow." Dean had been telling the angels to go to hell the last time that I'd seen him. The only thing that changed his mind had been their threat to kill an entire city full of people if he didn't cooperate. No way he'd harm his own nephew for them. I knew my brother. Family meant too much to him.

"Maybe that used to be true. But I also found out that he was in Hell. He was in Hell and the angels pulled him out. Whoever they pull out? They can put right back in. And they don't just pull people out of hell for laughs. Those bastards always have a purpose. You don't think he'll do whatever he needs to do to stay topside? I know I sure as hell would."

"He's not you!" I barked out the words, somehow offended at the idea that my brother's behavior could somehow be gauged by hers.

She recoiled like I'd slapped her and I felt a little guilty. It wouldn't do any good to take my anger out on someone who'd been as loyal and Ruby had.

"Maybe you're right, Sam. Maybe he would willingly go back to a place that broke him already. You know, that would basically be like signing up to be a demon? He only had a few months left before that's what he was. There are parts of him that were left behind in the pit that he's never gonna get back. Not that there was much of him left when he went in. Dean isn't the brother you knew anymore. Most people don't get to choose whose bitch to be, but I'm betting he chooses to bend over for Heaven." She walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the scattered newspaper and a lot to think over.

What if she was right? Dean was broken. Had been broken for two years before he went to hell. I remember how he was after the possession, after I'd almost… almost raped him. He wouldn't even talk. He was just coming back from that when he sold his soul for me. Then he spends forty years in Hell, being tortured and broken. He finally gets out and falls in love and what happens? His girlfriend dies and goes to Hell. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Ruby was right. He wouldn't risk another stay in Hell. That was the angel's ace in the hole, the way they'd control him if they needed to. He wouldn't want to, and he'd hate himself afterwards, but he'd cave. And if he went head to head with Lilith? He'd die. So that left me.

I buried my face in my hands for a second and went to find Ruby, who was stuffing her face with fries, obviously pissed.

"Ruby?"

"Yes?" She wouldn't turn to face me, so I gently turned her around.

"'M sorry. You're right. I have to do this. You find Lilith for me, and I'll take the bitch out. I just… I wanna know that my family's safe first. Okay?" I ducked down in an effort to catch her eye.

She smirked as she finally looked at me. "Yeah. Okay. Will pictures do, small fry?"

* * *

_A/N:_

_I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, __**redgriffen7**__. I'm sorry that it seemed to happen too fast. But Sam's been 'training' with Ruby for almost a year. So he's pretty powerful already._

_Thanks, __**lace and silk**__!_

_I know, __**greendaypumpkin**__. But I figured if anything could break you, it would be an impending apocalypse._

_Thanks, __**rog457**__. I'm probably gonna go a little bit more AU towards the end – well, okay, I'm gonna go a lot more AU towards the end. Mainly because I was very disappointed with the way the season ended and how it basically shredded its own canon. Sure, writing's hard. But that doesn't mean you can just break all the rules you made before and give up on trying to make everything make sense. send mini rants_

_LOL, __**ShortLILPunk**__. Getting Bela out of hell was my way to help Dean. I thought that the way people kept coming to life in on the show last season made the whole impact of a character dying trivial. I'm still shocked that Ellen and Jo stayed dead. Obviously the writers just didn't know what else to do with them, otherwise they'd be alive too._

_Thank you, __**lilykep**__. Welcome to the Lost 'verse! I'm happy to hear that you're enjoying it so far._

_-Angie_


	16. The Madness of Greatness

**The Madness of Greatness**

My life had never been easy. Growing up the only child of a single, working mother had been hard. Don't get me wrong, I loved my Mom and I know she did the best she could by me. And she loved me, probably too much. Her entire world revolved around me. But I spent a lot of time alone, especially when school was out in the summer. I usually made my own dinner and ate it alone in front of the TV, had to figure out my homework on my own. I used to dream about my father showing up at our front door one day. Apologizing for not being there, wanting to make it up. Making me part of his life. I would have done anything… anything to make that happen.

So when my father drove all night just to meet me after I finally got my mother to call him and tell him about me, I had hope. But after a very promising first meeting I only got to see him maybe once a year. He'd spend a few days with me, but he was always nervous, always looking over his shoulder as if watching out for some unseen danger.

I used to make up stories for his behavior and his long absences. Like, maybe he was a deep cover spy. Or he had been framed for murder and he was on the run. No matter what the scenario, though, he was always the hero. John Winchester just had that vibe. Not that he wasn't gruff. He wasn't one of those newer model heroes we see in the movies these days who aren't afraid to cry and get in touch with their feminine side. He was like the heroes from the old black and whites. A man of few words and fewer sentiments, but who just seemed like the kind of guy who would throw himself on a live grenade to save a stranger without a second thought. A man who insisted that I respect my mother on one hand and gave me beer on my sixteenth birthday on the other.

That's why when Dad told me what he did, about his other family, his other sons, I accepted it. Because I always knew that there was a lot he wasn't telling me. And I knew he wasn't crazy. Maybe it was stupid of me to make so many assumptions, but I couldn't imagine the man my mother still loved after almost twenty years was insane. I couldn't imagine the father that I'd always longed to know, always wanted in my life, being a madman. Even if that's the conclusion that any logical person came up with given the story he told me.

I ignored my brain and went with my gut. Like he'd taught me to. "Always trust your gut, son," he'd said one night while we were sitting outside on the porch looking up at the night sky, his voice a warm, quiet rumble in the nighttime silence. He put a large hand on my shoulder. "I don't give a damn what the last name is on your license, you're my kid. You're a _Winchester_. You trust your gut and it won't steer you wrong."

It's hard to explain how I felt when he said that. When he said that I was his kid. That might not have been on my birth certificate, but that's who I was. He'd been right, too. If I'd listened to my gut when that thing that looked like my Mom came to my dorm room, I never would have opened the door. But I told myself that I was being stupid. It was just my Mom. Really it had been the thing that had killed her, that had _eaten_ her, and now it was using my greatest fear against me. That something would happen to the father I barely knew before he could keep his promise to come get me.

The tale was a convincing one. Dad had died and was buried by the time she found out, in a pauper's grave because no one had known who he was. She didn't know who or where Sam was and she said something about maybe he was the other person they found and that we could get a grave marker for him too since he had been my brother. So I went with her, to see my father's and brother's graves and say my final goodbyes

When the ghoul hit me at the cemetery, I'd known that I was dead. Everything my father told me came back in a flash. The monsters that preyed on people, and how they often looked like ordinary people – sometimes even people you knew and loved – to do it. All that kept going through my mind was that Dad would be ashamed of me when he found out how I'd died not even two weeks after learning the truth.

Then Dean saved me. He was a lot like Dad only different, like a newer version of a hero. Bruce Willis to Dad's Eastwood. In Dean I saw a chance to prove myself to Dad. My mother had always said she saw him in me, and I wanted to show him that I could be like him. That I wouldn't be a liability for him. What I got was so much more. Dean was obviously damaged, but he still managed to keep going, to keep doing the right thing no matter how easy it would have been not to.

Dean reinforced Dad's admonishment to follow my gut and hunting chiseled it in stone. Hunting wasn't exactly a logical pursuit, not like medicine. But it was just as honorable and I found that I actually had a knack for it.

I found strength in his example as much as I did in Dad's. strength to deal with my mother's death, strength to seek redemption for being so easily tricked by saving the next person and killing the next threat. Even when I was out in the woods alone with God only knew how many werewolves, Dean unconscious and bleeding. Giving up hadn't even been an option. Dean wouldn't have given up. Dad wouldn't have given up. So the only thing to do was find a way to survive. Then everything spiraled out of control. Dean was barely able to stand on his own when Bela died, and his wound was barely scabbed over when Castiel came to get him. Then Sam was gone and Dad was freaking out.

Dean had been healing faster than normal, and he didn't seem to notice. Nobody did, except me. Maybe it was because so many things kept happening, everything coming fast and furious for anyone to catch their breath let alone think about how weird it was that Dean was damn near healed from a deep gash in his side in a few weeks. Now he was back and I didn't see him favor his side at all. He'd sat up with Dad all night, offering encouragement and our father slept for the first time since the roadhouse.

Dad was up the next day, shaved and showered. And sober. It was almost like the past few days hadn't happened at all. But even from my short exposure to the man, I could tell that Dad wasn't the kind of person who wallowed. He wasn't the kind who let things go either. He was more the 'beat life into submission' type. Which probably meant that he had a plan. I was glad that somebody did. I was starting to feel like I'd been thrown into the shit end of the pool without so much as a life jacket and no clue how to swim. And I was spending far too much time obsessing about my mother… about how she'd died and wondering exactly where she'd ended up. Not that I thought she'd end up in Hell… but shouldn't've been there either, deal or no. And taking the Hell option off the table, that didn't automatically mean she was in Heaven. She could eventually end up haunting our home. Or the crypt where Dean'd finally found her body.

A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts and Dean answered it, his gun drawn and at his side. Dad had a hand almost casually resting on top of a gun lying on the table in front of him. That was another thing about my father and brother. They never really relaxed. I felt stupid. My weapons weren't anywhere close. I watched as Dean's shoulder's visibly relaxed as he opened the door wider for whoever was there to enter. It was Victor.

"Hey, Dean. You alright?" The older man asked once the door was closed behind him. His eyes flickered towards Dean's side. At least someone else besides me remembered that he should still be injured.

"I'm good."

"That's good. You were right," Victor said as he turned his attention to Dad.

Dad seemed to deflate in relief. "Good," he said, nodding his head, his eyes looking far away like he was already trying to figure out the next step. "That's good."

"Right about what?" Dean asked, looking from on man to the other.

Victor's gaze returned to my older brother. "Your father knew where to find Sam. Or at least had a general idea that was good enough for me to find him." He turned back to John. "He's squatting in an abandoned house in the middle of a rundown neighborhood."

"Why didn't you go yourself?" Dean asked his father.

"That bitch pullin' his strings," John answered. "She's probably got her eye out for me. No tellin' how many other demons she's workin' with. I didn't wanna take the chance, but I didn't wanna run the risk of losin' track of the boy either. Is he alright?"

"As far as I could tell. Caleb and Joshua are keeping an eye on him now," Victor said dropping himself into the nearest chair and pulling his gun out of the holster clipped to the back of his belt so he could lean back comfortably. He placed the gun on the table within easy reach. I almost laughed. He was just as bad as my father and brother. I suppose I'll be like that soon. Maybe I should be now.

"What if she spots them?" Dean was in interrogation mode, but Victor took the questioning without the slightest change in his demeanor. He looked like he was an inch from volunteering to go himself.

"He's just watching the house. As long as Sam doesn't take Jo or the baby out of it, he's not following him. He's in the house across the street with a stack of MRIs and a couple cases of water. Got salt lines and devil's traps everywhere."

"Why didn't you call?" Dean demanded, pacing like a caged animal.

"Demons can trace calls," Dad answered for Victor. "Even change voice mail messages. I'm wokin' on the assumption that all our phones are bein' monitored and I couldn't take the chance that Ruby would catch on."

"So the plan?"

"We get the book back, and then we get Sam back," John said simply.

"That's gonna be easier said than done."

John snorted softly. "When ain't it ever?"

* * *

It was a twelve hour drive to the small middle of nowhere Louisianan town closest to the coven. Dad and Dean took turns driving straight through and since they didn't ask us our opinion, Victor and I didn't have any choice but to keep up or be left behind. I was starting to wonder how anyone in this family stayed in shape with a steady diet of chips, Twinkies and M&Ms. I didn't know about Dad, but even when we weren't in a hurry, Dean didn't usually eat much better.

When we got to the hotel, we rented two doubles. Victor and I shared one while Dad and Dean shared the other. I knew that Dean was trying to keep me away from Dad as much as possible. Probably from himself too. It was nothing personal. They were both irritable and short tempered since Sam took off. It didn't take much to get your head bitten off.

"So, what's your story?" I asked Victor when I'd collapsed onto the bed.

"Winchesters ruined my life. Takin' me with 'em was the least they could do." He murmured into his pillow from the next bed. There was something almost affectionate about the way he said it. He obviously hadn't minded having his life ruined.

I snorted softly. "You sound real broken up."

He huffed out a soft breath. "My life was empty before they showed up. I was respected and successful – until I went overboard trying to catch them at least. But there wasn't much meaning in what I did anymore. Not on a personal level. The Winchesters are like… like family. Your family is completely and totally insane. But they're pretty special too. Maybe that's why they're special."

I yawned, the hours on the road catching up with me. "The madness of greatness."

"Somethin' like that," he said just loud enough to hear. If he said anything else, I was sliding into sleep to fast to hear it.

* * *

I waited until both Ruby and Sam left Jo and my son alone. Ruby needed an alibi, after all. We were too close to risk her credibility now. Jo left the sleeping boy on the bed before entering the room. There was no salt. What else did you expect when a hunter lay down with demons? I wasn't strong enough to walk through a salt line yet… but I was getting there. And once the Master rose? There was nothing I wouldn't be able to do. I picked the baby up and cradled him in my arms.

"So much power in such a small, fragile package," I said softly, pushing his dark silky hair back. "No one would ever guess that you could unmake reality itself by simply… not believing in it. Don't worry. Mommy will teach you how to control your powers."

"Get away from my son!"

"Don't you mean _our_ son? But really, political correctness aside, I think it's a bit unnecessary for out boy to have two mothers. He only needs one. I'm clearly the better choice."

Jo was wide-eyed and uncomprehending. All I could see was fear on her stupid face. "Just give me my baby…"

"I think it's time you remember the truth, Jo."

Jo collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as her entire world collapsed around her. There. That was better.

* * *

_ A/N: Look! An update! Finally! Hope you all enjoyed!_

_LOL, **ShortLILPunk**… it does make sense for Sam's son to be the anti-christ he was possessed when the poor kid was conceived. That whole subject – the possession, the rape of Jo and the almost rape of Dean – pretty much sucks for everyone involved._

_Yeah, **Tuppance**. Ruby was pretty revolting. Even when the audience was supposed to think she was good, I never trusted her. Sam sneaking around with Ruby was pretty much a low point for his character in canon and in fanfic as far as I'm concerned._

_LOL, **SothKeeper**, I was actually working on this before my muse went on sabbatical. Parts of this are over a year old and it actually took me a while to find it. After remembering everything, Jo just might taser Sam if he comes near her again._

_Thanks, **BranchSuper**! Ruby has Sam so twisted around he doesn't know up from down anymore._

_Yeah, **redgriffin7**, I hated how little Sam believed in Deam, or even John, in canon. A lot of things could have been avoided if he'd trusted his family as much as he loved them. Very true about the road to hell._

_I so totally agree with your take on why Sam trusted Ruby and went in the opposite direction of what his family wanted, **rog457**. And I believe that Ruby knew this and used it to her advantage. That's why she was always harping on how he was the only one who could stop Lilith. It was the first time in his life he really felt powerful, like his destiny was in his own hands. And not his own destiny, but humanity's destiny. Trying to prove that Dean and John weren't the only heroes in the family._

_Thanks, **LuckyMe1**!_

_I appreciate your enjoyment of the story, **Vicky**. But I write gen and het… I don't do slash._

_Thanks, **Miss Uzumaki**. I'm glad you've been enjoying this._

_Thank you for R&Ring, **goldenspringtime**!_

_Welcome, tsebehtsiellivllams! I hope you enjoy this update!_

_-Angie_


	17. Joshua in the Library with a Gun

**Joshua in the Library with a Gun**

I knew my father well enough to recognize that despite appearances he was freaking out. We all were. I put Adam in a separate room with Victor because the kid was the only one of us who didn't know how to keep going, to fight his way through it. That came with years of experience. Adam wasn't as bad as he could have been, and I was proud of him for that. But he had a couple of habits that would do nothing but make Dad and me snap at him with prolonged exposure. This way he'd be away from our sharp tongues and short tempers but safe with Victor. Dad didn't say anything about the arrangements.

"Been sleepin' alright lately, son?" Dad asked when we both collapsed into our respective beds without even bothering to at least strip down to our boxers.

"Yeah. 'Til Sam's Houdini."

Dad sighed. He sounded tired. "Seems like these past few years, it's always somethin'."

There just didn't seem like there was enough time for us to do anything at all let alone all the things we knew had to be done. Sammy was hiding out with his kid, who just happened to be the freaking antichrist, and a demon. Trying to stay off everyone's radars, demons and angels and everything else in between. Even his own damn family. Bobby didn't remember how he'd read the Light Bearer Prophesy the last time around. NotSam was still out there somewhere, just waiting to fuck with us again. Seals were being broken so fast Castiel wasn't even showing up anymore. And that was just the shit we knew about.

"It's in an underground club."

I blinked at my father. There was something about the way he said it, about the blush creeping up from his collar. "You mean like… a _sex_ club?"

My father nodded his head. "Hardcore S&M."

"Whips and leather?"

Dad made a face of disgust. "It's a bit more hardcore than that, son. Demons… demons get off on serious pain."

For an instant, I was right back on a rack again, Alistair leaning over me holding a bloody, gory pair of pliers, his manner calm, almost soothing… if it weren't for the pain screaming along ever damn one of my nerves and the fact that it was my blood and tissue on the pliers and splattered all over him. I shook the memory off before I got lost in it. I was always afraid of getting lost in them. "Yeah. I recall."

"I can do this instead, Dean."

"No. I know how to fit in there. And you need to figure out how to get Sammy back. You were always better with planning than I am."

"I dunno about that. Between the two of us, you're probably more likely to talk him into coming back on his own."

I snickered. "Right. Like I ever had any luck makin' him stay put. What makes you think I can get him to come back on his own? We both know that this is gonna take more than just a little brotherly heart to heart."

Dad sighed. "I don't want you in there."

"You don't think I can handle it?"

"Of course you can handle it. I just don't want you to have to. That a crime, kiddo?"

I let out a long breath, tension leaking out of me along with it. It wasn't remembering being on the rack that bothered me the most. It was remembering being _off_ the rack that was the problem. Remembering how much I'd enjoyed the things I'd done. "No. It's not a crime. I just… I can handle it, okay?"

SPN*SPN*SPN

"Unless you wanna be my little pain slut, I'm goin' in alone," I told Victor once my father left.

Victor frowned at me. He wasn't going to make this easy. "That's not what your father wanted."

"I know. My father wants you to keep me from ending up suspended from the ceiling by meat hooks. But you shouldn't have to see what's in there."

"But you can handle it?"

"I already have. Look. I need you to come in there with guns blazing if I get in trouble. I'll wear the shit you bought at that spy store so you can keep track of me."

"Guns don't work against demons," he pointed out. "Unless it's the colt. And we definitely don't have enough bullets for that."

"That's where the loud speaker comes in," I said, smiling at him.

SPN*SPN*SPN

I had to admit, I looked damn good in skin tight leather. I went for a look that said Dom, because I really didn't wanna end up on a damn meat hook. Victor frowned at me when I finally emerged from the bathroom.

"You look way too comfortable in that get up."

"That's the idea, right? To fit in. I can't walk in there lookin' like I don't belong."

"I hope this goes the way you want it to."

I thought not telling him that nothing ever went the way I wanted it to was the better part of valor under the circumstances. "Your concern is touching."

Victor snorted softly. "I'd just like to keep my balls right where they are. If anything happens to you, John's gonna remove them with a dull, rusty knife."

SPN*SPN*SPN

The club was everything I'd thought it would be and worse. Piercing, cutting. People hanging by the skin of their backs from hooks suspended from the ceiling. The smell of blood, sweat and arousal hung heavy in the air. The music was loud and throbbing and added to the atmosphere of despair and depravity. It felt a lot like Hell. I found myself getting hard despite the nausea rolling in my belly and the panicky trapped feeling gnawing at me.

There was a girl on stage, a demon kneeling over her with black eyes, flaying her back. She looked drugged and I hoped she was. One of her legs was twitching constantly in what looked like an involuntary movement.

Victor and I had broken into the club earlier that day and planted a recording in the sound system. It had taken us hours to figure out the damn thing, but we managed it. I went to it now and queued our recording to start after three more songs. A lot of shit could happen in fifteen minutes, but I didn't want to take the chance that the human's in league with the demons would interfere. I looked around to make sure that no one was watching and broke the access panel. The only way to stop it now was to unplug the entire system, which required moving it. All five hundred plus pounds of it.

I wondered around, pretending to be interested in my surroundings, slowly making my way to the back. When I got there, I slipped through the curtains and found no one guarding the stairs. It could have been a good thing, but it felt off. I accepted the feeling, let it keep my senses sharp, as I went down the stairs. There was someone down there, though, guarding what the schematics they'd gotten a hold of told them was most likely the office.

"Hey, you know where the john is?" I asked as I came close. The guard scowled at me, but before he could answer I was already tasering him. He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Even if he was a demon, he wouldn't come to any time soon. I picked the lock and began searching the room.

There wasn't a hotspot like there had been before. This whole damn place reeked of evil like not even the monastery had. But it still didn't take me long to find the safe, or to get it open. The book was right there. I smirked at it, pulling the charmed bag that would hopefully contain it until we got it into the hex box out of my pocket. I slid the book inside, careful not to actually touch it.

"Well, as I live and breathe. Dean Winchester. And here I was thinking I'd lost you."

I froze at the sound of his voice and turned slowly. "Alistair?"

"You remember me! I'm touched. It's always nice when a star pupil doesn't forget those he left behind."

I felt lightheaded, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "You know, I'd love to catch up, but I just really came for the book."

Alistair tisked. "Don't you young people have any manners anymore?"

The throbbing music was suddenly replaced with an exorcism. Shrieks could clearly be heard. "Oh," Alistair said, seemingly unaffected, "that is _clever_. See, this is why you were my favorite. You walk around like you've never had an original thought in your life and then _boom_! When everyone least expects it you come up with somethin' like that. Too bad exorcisms don't work on me."

A movement behind him caught my eye. Victor. Something must have shown on my face because he turned and saw the colt in his hands. He threw Victor across the room and pinned him to the wall. A lifetime of training not to hesitate when an opening provided itself overcame my terror and I rushed forward and pressed the taser against the demon's neck and pulled the trigger. His back arched helplessly and Victor was released. He went for the gun. Alistair was incapacitated, but not out. He did the only thing he could to survive. He smoked out.

I sighed with relief. "Thanks Victor."

"No problem. Like I said, I like my balls right where they are."

"Let's get outta here."

Victor looked a little gray at the prospect of going back upstairs. "There's some truly sick shit goin' on up there, man. Is that what Hell is really like?"

I shrugged, swallowed at the bile in the back of my throat. "Worse. I say we light this bitch up on the way out."

"I find myself agreeing."

We used the fuse box to set a fire in the basement, then got all the poor idiots out of the club as it went up. A lot of them were in tears. The girl who was being flayed was screaming. Turned out many of them had been possessed and kept alive and conscious, her included, so the demons could feed on their pain. I wanted to vomit. Victor called 911 and told them that several ambulances needed to be sent.

We took the book, put it safely in the hex box and got out of dodge before the authorities arrived. We headed for Bobby's place. We had to book, hopefully Dad would be able to get Sam and everything would be okay. I knew that was a very long shot, though.

SPN*SPN*SPN

When I got to Bobby's, Jo and Isaiah were already there. Jo was pretty much catatonic. It wasn't hard for me to imagine why.

"You think she's like this because she remembers, or because of what happened at the Roadhouse?" I asked no one in particular. Joshua and Caleb exchanged a look. They obviously didn't know what I was talking about.

"Missouri says she remembers," Dad said.

"She's here?" I asked hopefully. I'd missed Missouri. I knew she wouldn't remember me, but it would still be good to see her again.

"She had a dream, said she needed to be here. She's upstairs with Jo."

"Don't know. Just saw the demon in the house with her," Caleb said. "I crossed the street while Joshua kept her in the crosshairs. Took the hosts head off when I reached the window. Had a hell of a time gettin' Jo and the kid outta there."

"NotSam strikes again." I don't know how I knew it was NotSam. I just did. Maybe because in some twisted way, my nephew was her kid too. I shivered at the thought. With family like that…

"NotSam?" Caleb asked.

"It's a long, ugly story." I said with a grimace. "One there's not enough time or whiskey to repeat right now."

"Now that we have Sammy's son," Dad interjected, "we need to get ready before he comes lookin' for him. Bobby… how many of those tranq darts you got left?"

"You gonna knock the kid out?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Not at the moment. He's gonna be pissed."

"Yeah, well," Dad growled, "he shoulda thought of that before he got addicted to fucking demon blood."

Missouri was back, upstairs with Jo. I was relieved to see her. I sat beside her next to Jo's bed.

"Is she gonna be alright?" I asked quietly.

"Depends on if she wants to be," Missouri said, her voice soothing. "She's in shock. I think…"

"What?"

"I think she needs to talk to somebody who understands what she's been through. Who can remind her she's got a whole lotta reasons to live, startin' with that baby boy downstairs." She started to get up.

"Do you… do you remember me?"

"No. I'm sorry to say I don't, honey. But I _see_ you." She said with a slight smile and a pat on my cheek before leaving me alone with Jo.

"They want to get rid of you," I finally said, leaning a little closer. "That's why that demon was there, that's why it made you remember. So you can either give them what they want or you can fight. Fight for yourself, fight for your son. He needs you to fight for him."

There was no reaction, but I knew she heard me. Knew how tempting it was just to stay in your own head. Where you were safe. The whole world could pass you by and you'd be safe, insolated. Unable to feel anything.

"I know, okay? I was… I was raped. 'M not gonna pretend I understand everything. I didn't get knocked up after what happened to me. But I understand wanting to hide from it. You can't though. Cause no matter how deep inside your own head you hide, it'll be right there with you. Nothin' else bad can happen to you in there, but nothin' good can either. You can't do a damn thing to protect your kid. And what already happened will always be in there with you."

"I was gonna have an abortion."

Her voice startled me. Missouri had thought that I could get through to her, but I hadn't been banking on it. "What?"

"I wanted him gone. When I realized… I didn't think of him as a baby. It was like I had this _thing_ inside me, a parasite that demon left behind. I even went to a clinic, but I knew it wouldn't be enough. So… I decided to kill myself." She turned her head to look at me with hollow eyes. "I just wanted it over. All of it."

I tilted my head to the side, knowing she meant the living with it every day. "Yeah. Been there. About once a day and twice on Sunday."

"Then… then I just _forgot_," she said as she looked away again. "Or… more like I remembered something completely different. How did that happen?"

"I dunno. I mean, I think it was my deal." She frowned at me. "I sold my soul only… it didn't stick. Wanted my family to forget me. Somehow that led to everyone forgetting about Sam's possession."

"Why would you do that?"

"Told you. I know. I just wanted it all over. Thought my life was already hell, so it didn't matter much where I ended up. But now I know better. I have to help my family. Hell, the whole damn world. That's more important than making the pain stop."

"You were really…" her voice broke and she cleared her throat and tried again. "That really happened to you?"

"Yeah. Five, six guys in an alley. I killed them a year later. All of them. Even killed one of their fathers. It didn't help. Just made me a murderer."

"It didn't make you feel at least a little better?"

"Yeah. A little, at first. But…" I sighed. "We're not supposed to kill people no matter how much they deserve it. Now eight people are dead 'cause of me."

"Sam's a good guy and he's your brother. I don't want to kill him exactly, but…"

"It was wearin' him when it raped you, and that's the face you see in your nightmares. The voice you can't get outta your head. Yeah. I get it." It had taken me weeks to even be able to be in the same room with Sam after what happened with NotSam and it hadn't actually raped me.

"I'm not strong like you." She blinked at tears, fighting a losing battle to keep them from falling. "I can't… I can't do this. And Mom…" she pressed a hand to her mouth and curled up on her side, sobbing.

"'M not nearly as strong as you think. But we can help each other be strong." She didn't answer, just kept crying. I knew about that too. Crying until you couldn't anymore. 'Til you were so exhausted you thought you just might die from it. "I know it's hard, but you can do it. If you couldn't, they wouldn't have tried to take you out. The bitch that did this to you saw you as a _threat_ to its plans. Prove it right."

SPN*SPN*SPN

_A/N:_

_Thanks, __**SamanthaV**__! All will be revealed soon. I was just a little (okay, a lot) stuck on where the book was this time. LOL…_

_LOL, __**redgriffin7**__. I just could not work out where the book would be hidden. I kept writing stuff for later chapters, but I didn't want a redo of the whole monastery thing and one day, after freaking out about it for like the hundredth time, a friend of mind just said, "why not an S&M club?" And just like that the problem was solved…_

_Hey, __**greendaypumpkin**__! I am back… this, I hope, was the hardest part of to get past._

_Thanks __**rog457**__. No, I haven't abandoned this. We'll just have to agree to disagree about John. He apologized for the Stanford fight, without hesitation. He admitted to Dean that he made mistakes before he died. He was flawed, yes, but all the best heroes are flawed. Sometimes deeply. Our disagreement aside, I'm glad you're enjoying my stories._

_I'm glad you're enjoying this 'verse so much __**Ophelia**__!_

_LOL, __**BranchSuper**__. The evil cliffie has been resolved._

_-Angie_


	18. Body Count

**Body Count**

Dean wasn't quite himself since he'd returned with the book. Not that he'd completely been what I thought of as 'himself' in a very long time. But he was off from even his _new_ normal. We were driving to the house where Sammy had been holed up. He hadn't called and we couldn't get through to him. I suspected that the demons were blocking our calls. We were going to have to get him ourselves. I'd promised Dean that I'd try to talk him down first. But if that didn't work, we had the tranq' darts with us. Bobby was working on reading the book again. If we could just get ahead of this thing, maybe we could all walk away alive. I snorted softly, knowing that was a pipe dream. As long as it wasn't Dean this time. It should have been me the last time, and I'll be damned if he takes the next bullet.

Victor was with Adam, Jo and the baby, and his frustration with me for putting him on 'babysitting duty' was mounting. If he only knew what a compliment I was paying him, leaving them in his and Bobby's care like that. He'd taken care of Dean in that club, and that went a long way in telling me he could be trusted. Dean hadn't said a word about the club, but I'd made Victor give me a full report. If I had to point out my worst flaw, it was that I always needed to know everything. Even things I shouldn't.

"_Everything was black, but the smell of blood and death was so damn strong. Place smelled like a slaughter house. The floor was… it was sticky and I knew it was because of the blood. People were hanging from chains by hooks." He swallowed hard, his eyes haunted and his Adam's apple bobbing. "Some of them were pierced with these long metal skewers. Some were flayed. A couple were sliced open. A lot of them died before we could even get them off the damn hooks. The music was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the screams. Dean just… sorta switched off. Like it didn't bother him. Like it was just another Tuesday. I've seen that before in victims who are just so traumatized that they're numb."_

Victor's descriptions had been enough to give me nightmares, so I completely understood why Dean was already in the kitchen with a bottle of Jack when I woke up the next morning. It was hours away from sunrise and we spent the time slowly emptying it in silence. When Victor came down he looked at the empty bottle sitting between us, but said nothing.

It wasn't just the horrors in the club. That had been bad enough. But it was his description of Dean's behavior. The kid was disassociating to deal with shit. I didn't like that. I would have much rather brought Victor and left Dean, but I knew I'd never get away with that. And it also might end up being counterproductive. My oldest would see it as a vote of no confidence. That might completely destroy him.

I glanced at my oldest son out of the corner of my eye. He looked a little pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." He sounded tired. Not the kind of tired that came from lack of sleep.

"Really?"

"It wasn't exactly like Hell, Dad."

"But it was bad."

"Yeah. But trust me, Hell was so much worse."

"Flashbacks? Nightmares?"

He shrugged, looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, Dad. The whole nine, okay? Look, I just wanna get Sammy back then we can deal with all my shit."

I let his tone pass. He was entitled to snap a little. If it had been hard to get Dean to open up about the rape, it was nearly impossible to get him to open up about Hell. "Look, son, I ain't askin' you to let me braid your hair. I just want you to talk to me when you need to. Before things become a problem. I already know all the highlights. The details ain't gonna scare me off."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll tell you if it starts to become a problem."

"Alright. Well, we need to be ready for the probability of it takin' more than one or two darts to take him down. Most likely more than three. Too bad we couldn't get some backup. Minimize the risk of him stoppin' us. "

"If we use too many will it… will it hurt him?"

"Not unless we use three or four times the necessary dosage. If he's still standin' after four darts, he's fuckin' earned the right to kick our asses."

Dean snorted softly. "What about that demon bitch he's travelin' with?"

"That's why we're bringin' the Colt, son. Got one bullet left and it's goin' right between her eyes."

He smiled for the first time in two days. "I definitely like that."

When we got to the town we split up. I went to try to talk some sense into Sam. Dean waited at a nearby diner. Squatting wasn't exactly a lifestyle that I'd wanted to perpetuate. It had been done in desperation when the boys were coming up. When demons had found us out and we had to leave town in a hurry and I wanted the extra security of going completely to ground – no hotels, no homes of known associates. Usually we ended up spending a few nights in the car, but when it was too hot or too cold or too dangerous for whatever reason we'd find an abandoned house and squat until we could move on. Sammy was hiding too. It was a sad thing to realize that I was one of the things he was hiding from.

SPN*SPN*SPN

The last thing I expected to find when I walked in the house we were squatting in was a dead body in Jo's room, with her and the baby nowhere to be found. I stood in the doorway, hyperventilating, trying to think through my options. Who could have taken him? The demons? The angels? And who the hell was the nearly headless body lying near the window? I took a deep breath and assessed the scene the way my father had taught me. The woman on the floor had been shot in the head by a high powered long range weapon. There was broken glass from the window all over the room along with the bits of blood, bone and brain. Sniper. I looked across the street. There was a house there. Empty, with a for sale sign in the yard. Shit.

Ruby had gone to do recon on Lilith, so I expected it when her phone went straight to voice mail. I briefly considered summoning her, but dismissed it. If she knew anything she'd have already told me. Wouldn't she? I sighed out a breath and began calling everyone in my contact list. No one answered. Not Bobby, not Pastor Jim, not Dean or Adam or Victor. Not even Dad when I finally broke down and called him. I left messages and went across the street. I broke in quickly and looked around. Someone had definitely been here, squatting. Most of the trash was in a single room. When I looked out the window I had a clean line of sight into the room with the dead body. There were tripod markings on the floor.

It didn't seem like angels or demons. They didn't use guns, unless they were trying to frame humans. Could it have been hunters? My father was a frighteningly good sniper. Dean was just as good. They weren't the only candidates, just the best alternatives out of a huge selection of bad ones. I remembered what Ruby said about Dean and shuddered. Would Dad be able to stop him? Would Dad even try? Yes, he loved his only grandson… but the kid was the antichrist and if he weighed that against losing his favorite son again…

I pushed the thoughts out of my head. I will never manage to figure anything out if I start obsessing about that right now. I forced myself to go over everything piece by piece. Jo and my son were gone. There was an unidentified woman lying dead on the floor with half her head missing. Okay, so there was a sniper. Either human or a demon trying to make it look like a human. Angels seemed way too arrogant to even consider covering their tracks. But who was the woman and why had she been in Jo's bedroom? It obviously wasn't Jo. Her hair – what was left of it anyway - had been short, her clothes wrong and she seemed a little smaller then Jo. I cursed under my breath. None of this made any damn sense. Just as I was about to call my family, Ruby showed up looking frantic.

"Lilith has them!" she said without preamble. I didn't have to ask who she meant.

"How?" I demanded. "When?"

"She came and took them a few days after we left." She pointed at the body on the floor. "That was Meg's host. Apparently they both wanted the same thing. Meg lost."

"But that doesn't make sense. Why would Lilith use a sniper?"

"I don't know, Sam. All I know is that she has Jo and your kid. You wanna waste time playing twenty questions or you wanna get suited up and save them?"

"Where is Lilith?"

"I don't know. They gave me the slip and I had to come here to tell you what was going on. I need to go out to pick up the trail again, and you need to get ready."

"Get ready? You mean…"

"Find some demons and drink them, Sam. You know _exactly_ what I mean."

"How much is it gonna take to kill Lilith?"

"As much as you can hold by then."

I sighed. I hated drinking from strange demons. Usually, it meant that their hosts died. Ruby's host was already dead and that gave me some comfort. But this was my son we were talking about. I'd do a lot worse to protect him. "Alright fine. You find the bitch and I'll be ready to kill her when you do."

SPN*SPN*SPN

It was one week and four demons later when Dad found me. I don't know how he did, but one morning he was standing on my front porch, pounding on the door. I tried to ignore him, hoping he'd give up and go away. Like that was even possible with my father.

"Sammy! Open the hell up, boy!"

Great, I thought, now he's yelling. I finally got up and opened the door to find him standing there with his fist raised, prepared to begin banging again, and a scowl on his face. "What do you want, Dad?"

"I want you to come home, is what I want."

That's all I wanted too. Wanted it so bad that the only thing that kept me from melting with relief and letting him take me like I was five again was remembering that my son's life was on the line. "I can't. Not until Lilith is dead."

"You know that's a one way street, kiddo. Look at you. Once you're done with Lilith, you're not gonna be able to just stop with the demon blood. If you keep doin' this to yourself, you're gonna be somethin' you don't wanna be."

"Then I guess you'll have to kill me."

Dad blinked and shrunk back. "Don't ever even _joke_ about that, boy."

"I wasn't jokin'. Don't tell me you never thought about it. I know you, Dad."

Dad looked away and took a deep breath. I told myself it didn't hurt to know for sure that my own father had considered killing me. "I saw your victims. You're racking up quite a body count there, Sam. If you were anybody else…"

"Oh, demons are _victims_ now?" I scoffed.

"Not the demons. The _hosts_, son. Or are you tryin' not to think of them as human? There are still people in there. People who deserve at least a shot at gettin' out of that hell alive." I winced. I knew he was right, but I just didn't see another way to do this.

"The Colt does the same thing." I tried to ignore how defensive I sounded.

"Yeah. And I've only used it when exorcism doesn't work. You know, Bobby thinks I should let you keep goin'."

"Good old Bobby," I said with a wry smile, "always the voice of reason."

Dad shook his head. "You're my kid, Sam. Would you let Isaiah do what you're doin'?"

"I'm doin' this _for_ Isaiah, Dad. Are you gonna stand there and tell me that you wouldn't do the same for me or Dean?"

"There's another way. There's gotta be."

"There isn't and we're outta time."

"There's nothin' I can say to change your mind?"

"No."

Dad nodded slowly and looked away again before nailing me with his intense gaze. "If you think I'm lettin' you go without a fight, boy, you got another thing comin'."

I frowned at the older man. "What are you plannin' on doing?"

He smiled. It wasn't a particularly warm or comforting smile. "You'll find out soon enough."

Dad turned and walked away, leaving me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Dad," I called out before I realized I was going to say anything.

He turned and raised an eyebrow hopefully. "Yeah, son?"

What I wanted was for him to understand, but I didn't know what else I could say to make him. "Tell Dean… tell him I remember everything."

"He'll be happy to hear that. But I think you need to tell him yourself."

SPN*SPN*SPN

_A/N: Dudes... I know this is usually where I respond to all your wonderful reviews and such, but I'm too tired right now, LOL. I may come back and do that especially if I find something in the reviews that I want to address for whatever reason. But I promise that my next update won't take nearly as long._


	19. No Exceptions

**No Exceptions**

Dean pointed to the Styrofoam container sitting on the table as soon as I entered the hotel room. "Eat!"

I smiled, somewhere between pleased and disturbed by how much he sounded like me, as I dropped myself into the chair. I'd completely forgotten about breakfast. I had no idea how he always knew when I did that. "Sir, yes sir," I replied as I opened the container and found a huge breakfast. I inhaled it and hummed appreciatively. I shoveled a large forkful of scrambled egg into my mouth as I regarded my first born across the table. "You know I'm supposed to be the one takin' care o' you."

He raised an eyebrow at me and swallowed the food in his mouth. The expression on his face right now was so like one of Mary's that my heart ached in my chest. "You do, Dad. Every day. When I… came back, all I wanted was for you and Sam to remember me." He blinked at tears. "I would have given anything for you to look at me the way you are right now."

"How am I lookin' at you?"

"Like you know me. Like… like I'm your son."

I nodded, tried to avoid getting choked up. I cleared my throat and frowned down at my food. "You remember the jelly?"

He snorted and shook his head. He reached into the bag and tossed two packets of grape and apple jelly across the table. I caught them both easily.

I smiled at the packets in my hand. It was my favorite flavor of jelly and of course was rare. Trust Dean to notice something like that and to take the time to get it when it was available. "I'm glad I remember you again. I'd rather die than ever forget you again, son. Even for a moment."

His breathing hitched and I left it alone. We ate in companionable silence, neither of us feeling the need to fill it up with useless words. Just being together was enough.

After breakfast, I drew a map of the outside of the house Sam was squatting in. My son and I went over the plan twice. Neither of us needed the second time, but I was anxious about this. Between Sam and that bitch demon he was traveling with, this could go very bad. If we lost the element of surprise, I hoped Sammy wasn't so far gone that he'd hurt Dean. The memory of him throwing me across the roadhouse with his damn mind like I was a fly made me shudder.

"I know you're worried about me, Dad, but I'm not gonna fuck this up."

"I ain't worried 'cause I think you'll fuck it up, son. I know you won't. You're good at keepin' your personal shit from gettin' in the way. I'm worried because... Mary's death did change you. But not as much as I feared it would. Then Sam left and I was an asshole and made it a thousand times worse. I went AWOL on you when I picked up Yellow Eye's trail... and after that it's just been one fucked up thing after another. Everybody's got a breakin' point, son. If everything that happened to you happened to me, I don't think I'd still be standin'." I didn't want another thing to happen to my boy. I didn't want to take the chance that the next thing would be the thing that broke him.

"You would be. For the same reason I am. I have to. We both have to. We gotta keep goin' 'til we see this through. After I got back from Hell, I went to a survivor's group. It helped. And after we get done with this, I'll tell you everything. I promise. I just can't go there right now 'cause I dunno how long it's gonna take to put me back together again."

"Deal. Once this is done, I ain't plannin' on goin' nowhere. We'll get a place, the four of us. Five if Victor wants to come with. Settle down. Not worry about the next hunt. Put each other back together."

"And for the record? I know you were just scared after Sam left. I was twenty one years old. I didn't need my Daddy to hold my hand. You were there and you understood what I was goin' through. That's all I needed."

***SPN*SPN*SPN***

"_Don't let him kill Lilith!" _Bobby's voice barked without preamble from the other end of the line. He sounded breathless and hadn't even given me the opportunity to say 'hello' when I answered. I was halfway back to the hotel with a few last minute supplies so we wouldn't have to stop after we got Sam. The store was just down the street and I'd walked, leaving the car so Dean could gas her up.

"I don't intend to. Good to know you're finally seein' sense."

"_No, you don't understand! That's what they _want_ him to do. Sam killing Lilith is the final seal. That's the only thing that can open the last lock on Lucifer's cage."_

I felt all the air rush out of me like I'd been punched in the gut. "You figured out how to read that damn book again."

"_Yeah. And there's a lotta shit in here you ain't gonna like, John."_

"About Sam?"

"_Not just him… Dean too."_

I closed my eyes tight, feeling like I was stuck in a nightmare I'd been trying to wake up from for twenty five years. It wasn't bad enough that the wanted Sam? They had to be after Dean too? I forced my eyes open and squared my shoulders, prepared to take the truth on head-on. "Tell me everything."

***SPN*SPN*SPN***

She caught me flatfooted. One minute I was turning at a sound down the walk at the hotel room door, the next I'm face to face with Ruby, a damn knife in my gut. I looked down, saw her hand wrapped around the hilt. Saw the blood spreading across the bottom of my shirt. All the feeling seemed to go out of my hands and the keys fell. Logically, I knew that it was a fatal wound, that there would be no coming back from this for me. I looked at the hotel room door. Two feet. Two feet from salt lines and devil traps. From Safety. From sparing Dean from finding me dead.

"No," I whispered hoarsely. I couldn't die now. My boys need me. I finally understood enough to save them both _and _keep the devil in his cage. I felt myself sliding to the ground and she did nothing to stop me, leaving the knife where it was. I was oddly grateful for that because the moment the knife was removed, I'd likely bleed out within seconds.

"Ouch. Looks like I got your liver there, John." She crouched down beside me, a smirk on her face that I would almost give my last breath to wipe off. "You got just enough time left to reflect on what a spectacular fuck up you are as a daddy. First born breaks the first seal. Second born on his way to break the last. And Sammy thinks he's savin' the world. Just like you did… when all the time you were raising the two boys who end up raising the devil. That's just _gotta_ sting. And your third boy? Adam? He's just so innocent. So unprepared. A sheep for the slaughter. The things we'll do to him once we're in charge… Sorry I can't stay and watch you bleed to death, but I gotta go make sure our boy passes his final test before the big game tonight. You understand, don't you John?"

She dragged me around the corner and I felt myself being picked up and thrown – a moment of vertigo so strong that it almost made me forget the pain. Where ever I landed wasn't the ground. It wasn't hard, but it was uncomfortable as hell. The smell was overwhelming and it took a while for me to realize that she'd thrown me in a dumpster. _Bitch_.

***SPN*SPN*SPN***

_Mary had been nervous and restless for the past few months. She was a week away from her due date and the baby was healthy and strong as far as I knew. Dean was reconciling himself to not being the only child and the sole center of the Winchester universe, even looking forward to his new brother or sister. I couldn't understand the source of her anxiety. I assumed it was just something that resided in that foreign land of the female psyche that often left me stumped. So I tried to be understanding and patient, giving her massages and catering to her every whim. And pray that she'd come out of it soon._

_I wished I knew the right things to do, to say, to ask. It was like that horrible day when her parents died… oh. I felt like an idiot after double checking the dates. The baby was due right on the tenth anniversary of her parent's murder/suicide. Mary had never believed the official story, despite the 'evidence' the police presented to her. Frankly, I wasn't sure I believed it either. Samuel Campbell was an asshole, the exact opposite of the kind of guy that would kill himself after killing his wife. Maybe he'd kill his wife and then flee to some country with no extradition treaty. I didn't tell my wife about my thoughts on her father, but Mary had no illusions about the kind of man he had been. She knew he wasn't the kind of person who would kill himself as well as I did._

_However that particular clusterfuck had really occurred didn't change the basic facts. Mary's parents were both tragically and prematurely dead – most likely murdered by someone who had never been found or even looked for – and gone. And it had taken my wife years to make her peace with it._

"_I want to name him after Dad," Mary was saying as she stared out the window one day. She looked forlorn. _Resigned_. It was that more than anything that convinced John that as undesirable as naming one of his children after that jerk was he could live with it. It would be his child, his and Mary's. It wasn't like he wouldn't love the baby even if he or she were named after someone that unlovable._

"_Samuel if it's a boy, Samantha if it's a girl?"_

_She smiled. "You still want a little girl, don't you?"_

"_Definitely. Especially if she has your eyes. And your smile." He smiled at the thought of having a daughter. A little girl to balance out our little family. _

"_Are you sure you'd be okay with it? I know you and Dad didn't get along. And we already named Dean after Mom."_

_That had been my idea. I'd loved Deana Campbell from the moment I'd met her and never could figure out what she saw in her husband. "A man that managed to raise you couldn't be all bad." It was the best I could do._

_Mary raised an eyebrow in amusement, but said nothing._

_Later that day Mary, Dean and I were sitting out on the porch swing watching the stars. We were all wrapped up in the same heavy blanket, sharing body heat. Dean was either asleep or near enough to it not to make much difference. I loved times like this. Hated that it was Sunday night and I'd have to go back to the garage in the morning. Not that I didn't love my work, but I loved being with my family more._

_My wife's mood seemed better. She still wasn't as happy as she'd been around this time with Dean, but she didn't seem quite so down as she had before. I wished I could take them out to the wilderness. The stars were so much clearer out there. Mary loved the outdoors but she was too close to her due date for something like that. Not only would she be uncomfortable the whole time, but what if she went into labor while we were out there? It might be impossible to make it to a hospital in time._

_Mary's voice startled me out of my thoughts. "Have you ever done something that you know was selfish and wrong, but still couldn't bring yourself to regret it?" Her voice had a faraway quality to it, like her mind was a million miles away, and she was gently carding her fingers through our son's blond hair. I frowned at my wife, but before I could figure out how to respond to that, she turned at looked at me with so much sadness that the words stuck in my throat. She didn't seem to need me to answer, though, and kept speaking. "I'm so glad you're alive, John. That we got to have this."_

_If I wasn't worried before, I was now. She's glad I'm alive? What the hell? I supposed it's a lot better than wanting me dead, but it was an odd thing to say especially on top of all her other odd behavior lately. "Baby, is something wrong?"_

_She shook her head and gave me a reassuring smile. "Nothing's wrong. This is perfect. It's just that…" she trailed off and bit her lip. I finished her sentence in my head. Nothing is perfect._

_Because not even Nam had managed to knock the starry-eyed optimist out of me, I smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "Maybe we can be the exception that proves the rule."_

***SPN*SPN*SPN***

"John?"

The light surrounding her was bright, but it didn't burn my eyes. It turned her hair a burnished gold and her blue eyes sparkled with it. My heart froze in my chest. "Mary?" I asked breathlessly.

She reached out a tentative hand to rest on my chest, and another to cup my cheek. We weren't in the dumpster. We were… somewhere very white. Death vision? This did not feel like one. Of course I'd never actually had one before. But my wifes hands felt soft and warm and real, just like I remembered them. "I'm sorry," I said hoarsely, blinking futilely at the tears sliding from my eyes. "I tried so damn hard to protect our boys."

"Shhh... save your strength. Dean will be here soon, and you have a lot you need to tell him. If you have to blame anyone, blame me. You did the best you could with what you had. Better than most people would have managed. You just have to believe it was enough." I started to shake my head, but she shushed me. "Hush now. Thought you knew better then to argue with me. What happened to them wasn't your fault. They manipulated us all. But it's not over yet. You taught our boys everything they need, John. Believe that."

"Sometimes I forget just how beautiful you were."

She smiled and pulled my head onto her lap. "I still look the same. You of all people should know that death is not the end." She started singing Hey, Jude. I never knew waiting to die could be this peaceful. Next thing I knew, I was being awakened by my _Hey, Jude_ ring tone.

"_Mary_?" I whispered hoarsely. There was no answer. I was alone, back in the dumpster. But my phone was ringing. Dean was looking for me.

***SPN*SPN*SPN***

_A/N: Hey all! Sorry about how long I've been gone. I have chronic bursitis and it was trying to kill me this past year. I could barely type. Still hurts to type, but I want to (finally) finish this this story. Please don't hate me for the way this chapter ended… *shields myself with my computer*_

_Hey, __**Samanthav**__! Hope you enjoyed it!_

_Poor Sammy has youngest sibling/second son's disease, __**Bloodmoon-Shinigami**__. He wants to feel important (not realizing that he already is) and in charge (which he rarely is b/c he's the youngest). Ruby used that against him._

_Good to see you, __**rog457**__! Poor John has been making choices like that for a long time. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a variety of minor stress related diseases. Sammy's always been the type who had to learn everything the hard way._

_I hope you're still enjoying this, __**Little-Pandora-s-Box**__!_


	20. I Haven't Forgotten!

I just wanted to let you all know that I haven't forgotten about you and still plan to finish my stories. My right arm is pretty muchuseless and typing or even writting longhand is pretty much torture. I have been trying to get diagnosed for months now, but its been difficult with no money and no insurance. I finally found a rheumatologist who would make payment arrangements and I now know that I have fibromyalgia and some form of inflammatory arthritis - probably psoriatic since I've had psoriasis since I was a kid. I need to scrap together enough money to pay for ten (yes, ten) blood tests to confirm. I am starting a new drug that should help with the inflammatiob. I'm hoping that it will work and I'll be typing asa again soon. I actually have all of the rest of Tabular Rosa worked out in my head and a lot of Pheonix Rising along with lots of sequals and one shots. It's just frustrating not to be able to write them. Grrrr...


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